


When You Move, I Move

by 2bestfriends



Series: All That You Are to Me [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Brief Mention of Past Sex Work, Bucky is 21, Cabin Fic, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), CapSeptender, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Cock Rings, Communication, Dry Orgasm, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Farmer's Market, Felching, Kink Negotiation, Lumberjack Steve Rogers, M/M, Marathon Sex, Modern Bucky Barnes, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Relationship Negotiation, Rimming, Shrunkyclunks, Steve is 33
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2bestfriends/pseuds/2bestfriends
Summary: As September ushers in cooler nights, Bucky asks for a little more heat.





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a direct sequel to [Like Real People Do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217), so it probably won't make a lot of sense without it! It takes place in September of the same year, about eight months after the main story left off. 
> 
> We're posting in two parts, but the fic is complete, and part two will be up tomorrow.

Steve gets up for the day when he hears the very slight, hardly perceptible whine that Lady gives just for him. 

The two of them have an agreement about waking Bucky up before it's necessary, because for all that Bucky fits right into life at the cabin like he’s always belonged here, he's never been a morning person. 

Brushing a kiss to Bucky's cheek, Steve eases himself out of bed and watches as Bucky's nose scrunches up in a frown and he burrows deeper into the blankets. The fall chill is just starting to set in overnight, the mornings a perfect 53* before the sun manages to heat up the afternoons. 

Padding across the wooden floor, Steve opens the bedroom door and goes to feed Lady before she starts flopping on the ground and pretending she's starving to death. "Morning, pretty girl," he mutters, giving her a quick pet. "Come on. Food, then walk."

Lady barks with quiet enthusiasm, following him to the kitchen and sitting patient as can be while Steve measures out her morning kibble into her bowl. She sets on it the second Steve withdraws the scoop, crunching noisily, and he leaves her to it while he gets the coffee maker going. 

He won't actually have a cup until they come back from their walk, but Bucky will probably get up in the interim, and he always wants coffee first thing. 

Prepping a couple of other things for breakfast, Steve sets out some bacon to thaw on the counter and steps out briefly to collect some eggs. By the time he's got everything he needs ready by the stove, Lady is finished eating, licking her chops and hovering pointedly by the door. 

"Okay, okay," he murmurs, grabbing his jacket. "Let's go."

The temperature has dropped, the days getting shorter, but the leaves haven't started changing yet. It's going to be a beautiful day, the sky clear and blue as the sun climbs higher. 

When Steve and Lady return from their walk, Bucky is standing over the sink with a mug clutched in his hands, sipping his coffee and squinting out the kitchen window.

"Don't suppose you got breakfast started," Steve teases. 

"Nuh uh," mumbles Bucky, slurping loudly.

Steve huffs a laugh, unbothered, and turns to hang up his jacket as Lady prances over to greet Bucky, pressing her whole body against Bucky's legs until he gets with the program and starts petting her. "Morning, beautiful, such a good girl. Did Steve feed you? Lucky. He hasn't fed me at all yet."

That draws a real laugh out of Steve and he comes over and plants a kiss on Bucky's cheek. "Bacon and eggs sound good?"

"Mmm, yes, please." He grins up at Steve, eyes still crinkled and puffy with sleep. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, honey." Steve gives him another quick peck and then shoos him away. "Go sit at the table."

Steve makes quick work of breakfast, the routine easy and comfortable. He makes breakfast for Bucky almost every morning and even ten months in, nearly eleven, the novelty still hasn't worn off. Bucky is here, with him. Bucky is his and he's Bucky's. He's not sure he ever figured he'd have something like this in his life, even back during the war. The fantasy of settling down with Peggy one day was always so distant, so...fantastical. He couldn't ever see how his life might work out to let him have any peace. 

But in the end, life made sure he found Bucky and that Bucky found him. Funny how things work out. 

Once he's done cooking, Steve plates up heaping servings for them both and places them on the table. He puts the salt and pepper next to Bucky, tops off his coffee, and then sits down. "You still want to head into town today?"

Bucky picks up the pepper, shaking it out over his eggs. "Yeah, I wrote on the calendar that today is the last Saturday they're doing the farmer's market. I looked up seasonal produce for New York in September and there's so much. Plus, if prices are good enough, I might get enough for us to can."

While Steve makes them breakfast every single morning, they trade off lunch and dinner duty, and Bucky has taken over pretty much everything else food-related, spending the entire summer learning how to can preserves and jam, pickle vegetables, and ferment just about anything under the sun. He even learned how to make cheese and churn butter, which led to an attempt to figure out if they could have a cow or a goat in addition to the chickens. 

Ultimately, they concluded that they'd need to tear down the current shed and build an actual barn, so they decided to build an addition to the cabin instead to use as Steve's studio and Bucky's workroom before tearing down the shed. 

It's a project in its infancy and Steve's not sure he'll get it done before winter sets in, but he's got plans.

"Oh yeah?" encourages Steve, tearing into a slice of Bucky's sourdough bread and dunking it into the yolk of his eggs. "Jam?"

"Peach freezer jam," says Bucky. "Nectarines, maybe. Plums, raspberries, watermelon... Grapes. Definitely pumpkins. What am I forgetting?"

Steve shrugs, shoveling eggs into his mouth. 

Bucky scoffs. "You're no help. Apples! Fuck, apples, of course. Like, pounds and pounds of apples! We should buy cider, but I want to try and make some, too. I found a recipe and apparently it’s really easy."

"Any green stuff?"

"'Course," says Bucky. "Whatever they've got. Kale, maybe. Chard. I'd love some cabbage and sprouts."

"Whatever you want, Buck," Steve says, indulgent.

Pretty pink fills Bucky's cheeks as he rolls his eyes. "You know, it's okay if we do what you want, too."

Steve shrugs. "I know. Don't want anything in particular right now, but I'll let you know if something comes to mind."

Bucky narrows his eyes and Steve can tell something is spinning around in that sharp brain of his, but whatever he's turning over he doesn't make known. Instead he sneaks Lady a piece of bacon and drinks the last of his coffee. "Oh, arugula!" he announces moments later. "There’s this recipe I want to try that needs arugula and the rabbit that got into the greenhouse last month destroyed what we were growing. I'll need some of that."

Steve nods along, content to let Bucky direct their shopping trip. Before, most of this stuff was for function. When he first moved out to the cabin, he tried every hobby-type activity he could think of, anything that sounded practical for living isolated and alone. It kept him busy and that was all he could ask for. With Bucky, the way he finds joy in learning new things brings _Steve_ joy. It's always something new and exciting, something for Bucky to discover and perfect.

After breakfast, Bucky helps him with the dishes, though he knows he doesn't need to, and then they both get dressed for town. All three of them load into the truck, Bucky carrying an armful of reusable bags, a list, and his phone, while Steve tucks his wallet into his pocket and pulls a hat down over his hair. Lady lets them buckle her into her harness in the middle and they head down the road, windows rolled down to catch the breeze.

Bucky immediately gets comfortable, kicking off his sneakers and putting his socked feet up on the dashboard, one arm slung around Lady to rub her ears. Sometimes he plugs in his phone and puts on music, but today he seems content to prop his chin up and look out the window, the sun bathing him in warm, golden light, shaggy hair tumbling soft across his forehead. 

"This is the only season I know how to dress for," Bucky mumbles, eyes closed, face turned into the sun like a flower. 

"Seems about right," says Steve, giving him a brief once over; skinny black jeans, a ragged denim jacket, and a layered scarf he's wound around his neck and shoulders about three times. "Never seen so many different pairs of leggings and nearly identical styles of jacket in someone's wardrobe."

"People in plaid houses shouldn't throw stones," quips Bucky. "You have seven of the same shirt in different colors and you buy the same pair of jeans in bulk."

"Someone once told me if you find something you really like, you should buy it in quantity."

Bucky gestures broadly to himself, not bothering to open his eyes. There’s a pleased smile curling his lips up at the corners and when Steve glances at him, he’s overcome with adoration. 

“Yeah,” sighs Steve. “I take your point.”

They’re quiet for most of the rest of the drive, Bucky only perking up when Steve slows down as they enter town. Steve lifts an eyebrow. “Nice nap?”

“Yes, thanks,” says Bucky, grinning and stretching his long limbs. “I was dreaming of blackberry cobbler. Do we have an ice cream maker? I could do fresh vanilla to go with it.”

“We can probably pick one up. Think I saw a display at the supermarket the other week.” Steve turns on his blinker, waiting for oncoming traffic before he turns into the giant parking lot next to the fairgrounds used for the farmer’s market. It’s early yet, only just before nine AM, but that’s late in farmer world so the place is already packed. 

Steve makes a face at the crowds and hears Bucky laugh. “You’ll be alright. Me and Lady’ll protect you. Won’t we, pretty girl?”

Lady _boofs_ softly and licks Steve’s wrist.

"I got nothing to be afraid of, then," says Steve. He finds a space and parks, turning off the engine. He adjusts his baseball cap, then grabs his sunglasses from the visor and slides them on. "There," he announces. "I'm ready."

Bucky glances at him as he puts his shoes back on, snorting a laugh. "What a disguise. I can't even tell you." 

Steve clips Lady's leash on and hands the end to Bucky, the three of them finally piling out of the truck. 

"Produce and fruit first, so we don't miss out on anything good. Baked goods. Whatever else looks good," Bucky declares. "Samples as we go. You'll have to load the truck in stages. Lunch! I want a fancy grilled cheese. Then the supermarket before we go."

"Marching orders delivered, Sargeant?" murmurs Steve, wrestling shopping bags out of the truck bed. 

"Yeah, lets go," chirps Bucky. "Do we need any meat for the freezer?"

Steve considers, doing a mental inventory of the deep freeze in the basement. “Hmm, I suppose if we see anything that looks good. Anything special. Maybe if we see any really good steaks or if that specialty butcher has the lamb we liked. Otherwise we’ve got enough until our Costco run next month.”

Bucky bobs his head, setting off toward the first stall with bright, focused attention. Steve loves watching Bucky work his way through the vendors. While he’s not opposed to paying for quality work, he’s got a sharp eye for a good deal and he knows how to bargain for a fair price. He excelled at it on their first trip in late May this year. Steve’s always just forked over whatever amount being asked without question, the inflation of modern society so outrageous he could never work out when or if he was being overcharged (or rather, he just never bothered to figure it out, preferring to minimize his interactions by avoiding a haggle). It wasn’t as if he had a budget to speak of. 

Bucky walks up to the first merchant and holds out his free hand for a shake, which the older man gladly accepts. “Hey there, Ted. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know, it’s apple season and the schools just started their fall field trips. Been dealing with 10 year olds running wild in the orchards for weeks.”

Bucky laughs, bright and genuine. "Oh, god. I bet that keeps you on your toes."

"I'm practically a ballerina at this point," Ted says wryly. "What can I do for you today?"

"I like the look of these Honeycrisps," Bucky says. "And how about..."

Steve tunes out as they start to talk apple varieties and prices, standing alongside Bucky with his hands in his pockets, ready to hand over cash when prompted. It really is beautiful out. Steve tips his head back, letting the sun shine on his face, absorbing the warmth of the day. He's still tangentially aware of Bucky, chatting amiably, running his fingers through his hair and picking up apples to sniff them. Eventually, he taps Steve on the arm, and Steve blinks back into reality, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket. 

"How much?" he says gruffly. 

"$40," says Bucky. "Grab those, we'll take them to the truck before we keep shopping."

Steve pays, nodding at Ted, before Bucky starts to pass him bushel after bushel of apples.

Once Bucky has loaded him up, Steve ambles back to the truck to put them all safely in the back, getting out the bungee cords and tarp to secure them in place before he heads back into the thick of things. He finds Bucky has moved on to a stall with berries in outrageous reds and blues and deep black-purple, like they came right out of a painting—hell, Steve's not even sure he has colors that vibrant. Steve thinks this seller's name is Catherine or Katie or maybe Christy? He's not sure, but he knows that Bucky knows. 

Bucky knows everyone in this town and they know him, and instead of Bucky being Steve's nice young man, Steve has become Bucky's strapping fellow, or at least that's what Steve overhears Catherine-Katie-Christy saying as they walk away. 

They repeat the process of the apples with several bushels of various berries, then bright, leafy greens, a couple dozen early ears of corn, pumpkins as big around as Steve's shoulders, squashes, a whole basket of peaches and crates of nectarines and plums. By the time Steve's done loading just the produce into the back of the truck, it fills a good half, maybe pushing toward 2/3rds. 

The day is staying cool enough despite the sun high in the sky that it should all keep fine until they're ready to head home. Bucky's taken off his jacket in favor of tying it around his waist, but he still has the scarf and the sleeves pulled down around his thumbs. They stop and eat some truly decadent grilled cheeses with artisan bread and homemade butter and cheese along with baked apples and ciders. Lady lays on the ground next to them, chewing on a special treat, and Bucky hooks his ankle around Steve's under the picnic table.

Taking a sip from his bottle, Bucky licks his lips and asks, "You ready for round two, big guy?"

"You want to keep shopping? Or are we heading for the supermarket?" asks Steve, taking a penultimate bite of grilled cheese sandwich number three. 

"I wanna do one more loop around, now that we've got all the important stuff," says Bucky. "Some bread would be nice. I saw some candles I want to look at, and we haven't visited the homemade bath stuff stall yet. I bet Alissa would love to squeeze your biceps with her eyes."

Steve nods, popping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. "I'm almost out of shampoo, actually."

"Then get ready to smolder solemnly behind your sunglasses while I get us a discount," says Bucky, clapping his hands together as he gets back to his feet. 

They do one final circuit of the grounds while Bucky browses for novelties instead of necessities. They end up with shampoo and conditioner for them both, several bars of fancy, sweet-smelling soaps, a big bag of bath salts, and a huge paper bag of soy candles. They also pick up two loaves of crusty rosemary bread that Bucky both wants to eat and also figure out how to bake himself, a meat pie, bison sausages, a half dozen sour cream glazed donuts, and some jars of savory jellies. 

When they're finally ready to say goodbye to the last farmer's market of summer, they pack their purchases into the truck and take a short walk to the supermarket. 

They really only pick up a few things, there, one of which is the promised ice cream maker, and the supplies required for making ice cream. 

"I have to go through everything when we get back and figure out what we're going to freeze right away," Bucky chatters as they go through the checkout. "I'm going to make a few pies tomorrow.... Get the peaches ready for canning...."

"Did you like to cook, before I met you?" Steve asks, as they carry their bags back to the truck, where they left Lady with cranked windows and a rawhide. 

"Um," says Bucky, seemingly surprised by the question enough to have to think about the answer. "No. I never cooked. This is kinda new for me."

Steve hums, putting his bags in place before taking Bucky's and placing them alongside the rest. "But you like it now?"

"Well...yeah?" He wrinkles his nose. "Why are you worried all of a sudden?"

"I’m not," says Steve, offering a shrug. "Not really. I just...don't want you to think you have to do any of this stuff. You know I'm happy to take care of cooking and food."

Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, I know. I do like doing it, though. I like cooking and finding new recipes and figuring things out." He seems to hesitate, softening a bit as he looks up at Steve. "What little I did know about cooking, I learned with my mom, like the pecan pie, y'know? She was always real proud of me when I'd learn new things, too, whether it was how to take apart an engine or fiddle with wiring or make a bologna sandwich. I think she'd be proud of me now."

Steve's chest feels warm and full and he leans down to press a kiss to Bucky's cheek and then his mouth. "I'm proud of you, too, Buck. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to defend yourself. I just want to know you're happy."

"Steve. Of course I am. Now let's get in the truck so you can take me home." He pushes up on his tiptoes to kiss Steve right back and then opens the passenger door to climb in. Steve closes it behind him, making sure he's secure inside before he walks around to the driver’s side. 

They're about halfway home when Bucky says, "You always say things like 'whatever you want, Buck,' you check in to make sure I'm happy, and you say you just like to give me things, to take care of me, and I believe you."

Steve is quiet, half expecting Bucky to add something more to that sentence, but when he doesn't, he takes a slow breath and says, "Okay, that's good, because it's true. As long as I get to be with you, that's all I want. I have everything else, did everything I needed to do in life." He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel. "Does that bother you? That I don't...want more?"

"What? No. I just...you're always ready to give me whatever I ask for. Whether it's breakfast or ten crates of apples or an ice cream maker in September. You give it to me. You...even do the same thing in bed." Bucky shrugs. "I just...want _you_ to know you can ask for things too. I want to give you whatever you want as much as you want to do that for me."

"You already do, Buck," Steve says immediately, because he truly wants for nothing, and this isn't a path he really wants Bucky to go down. There's no need for insecurity, here, or worry, especially when it comes to Steve's needs. 

"Steve," huffs Bucky. "You didn't even stop to think about it!"

"Because there's nothing for me to think about," Steve says slowly. "You already give me everything I want and need. You're here with me, every day, you live out here with me, I get to wake up next to you every morning. I have the privilege of holding you and kissing you and giving you pleasure. I get to eat with you and read to you, watch TV with you, laugh with you. What more could I ever ask for, Buck? I didn't think I'd ever have something like this, and now I do."

Bucky's quiet for long enough that Steve thinks he's said something horribly wrong, until Bucky sniffs, and Steve glances briefly at him to find Bucky's slouched down in his seat, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. When he meets Steve's gaze, Steve gets a flash of red-rimmed, glossy blue eyes, almost accusing, before Steve looks back to the road. "What the fuck, Steve."

"What?" Steve asks wildly. "You told me to think!"

"Some days you communicate entirely in grunts, barely speaking a word, and then suddenly you drop that on me!" Bucky sniffs again, a laugh bubbling out of him. "You romantic fuck."

Steve cheeks burn. "I thought you knew," he mumbles. 

"I mean, I do," says Bucky. "I know. I feel the same way. Lucky, you know? Even when you don't talk much, I know how you feel, because you treat me like I'm some...precious thing. Quite frankly, Steve, you spoil me rotten."

"Well," Steve says defensively. "That's what I want."

Bucky laughs wetly. "Yeah. Okay, I get it."

They're quiet for a couple more minutes, bumping across the bridge on the way back to the cabin. Bucky's still fidgeting, though, something turning over and over in his head. 

"Out with it," says Steve. 

"You just never seem to ask for anything extra!" Bucky blurts, helpless to keep it in. "You're never greedy, or demanding."

Steve can't help laughing at that. "What scale are you measuring that against?"

"Mine! How can you always be so composed? Don't you just want _more_ sometimes? That's all I'm saying," says Bucky, Steve catching the shrug of his shoulders in his peripheral vision. "If selfish thoughts ever do cross your mind, it's okay to....voice 'em. Tell me. I can give you what you want."

"I enjoy what we do in bed," Steve says, because he's sure that's what Bucky is trying to refer back to. "I'm very satisfied."

"Okayyy," drags out Bucky. "But—"

"There it is."

"But! You're always ready to go."

Steve blinks. The sun is starting to set, the oranges and purples and pinks of the sky burnishing the tops of the trees. He has no idea what Bucky is talking about. Or rather, he has no idea _why_ that's somehow a bad thing. "Well, yes, that's kind of the nature of liking what we do, Buck."

"Ugh." Bucky tips his head back against the seat and even Lady picks her head up from where she was laying down between them. "I just mean...you're, like, _always_ ready. It doesn’t matter how early or late in the day, or if you've been drinking, or even if you've already gotten off. Whenever I want you, you're ready."

Steve’s cheeks burn hot. "Yes? Bucky, I don't know what your point is, here!" His voice goes up in embarrassed confusion as his composure cracks. He's not angry, he just truly doesn't know what Bucky is getting at, and it feels weird. He's used to being able to read Bucky like a book. 

"Listen, I just mean that if you're always ready whenever I'm in the mood, then that has to mean you're probably ready sometimes when you think I'm _not_ in the mood or when I don't ask! And you _could_ ask, okay? That's what I mean! You can ask if you want to have sex with me more often or...or longer or whatever it is you need." Bucky reaches out, tugging one of Steve's hands free from the steering wheel so he can lace their fingers together, giving him a squeeze. "I know your body works different from mine, that's all. I want you to know that's okay."

Steve's brain feels like a whistling kettle, begging to be taken off the stove. 

He wonders, wildly, how long this has been on Bucky's mind, if he somehow managed to bring it up in such a way that he could use the day's evidence of Steve's indulgence for Bucky as an example of how Steve never wants anything. How long he's been thinking about Steve's super-powered body, watching him eat enough for three fully grown men at every single meal, or noting his, ahem, prodigious stamina and how quickly and easily he gets turned on. 

God. 

"Bucky," he says weakly. "You're....that's.... I'm..." He breaks off, making a helpless noise. 

"Stands to reason, right?" Bucky says cheerfully. "You just need more. That's what I want. For you to take what you need and to show me just how much that is."

"That's not fair," Steve protests, giving Bucky's hand a squeeze before he lets go to pull the truck into the yard under the awning. He parks, turning off the engine and staring straight ahead. "You can't just...say that what you want is for me to take what I need from you!"

"Why not?" asks Bucky stubbornly. "You say you're satisfied, but we do everything on my terms. I just want you to know that it's okay for you to initiate sex."

"I...." Steve trails off. "Don't I?"

"Not really," says Bucky, seemingly unconcerned to be revealing that fact. He shrugs. "I get it, though, and I appreciate it. I was pretty messed up about sex when we first met, and you gave me room for it to always be on my terms when we were both ready for it. I just think it's time we moved past that."

"Buck, it's not...just about wanting to make sure you get to enjoy sex on your terms, although you're right. That was a big part of it when we first got involved," admits Steve. He unbuckles his seatbelt and moves to release Lady from her harness. He doesn't look at Bucky when he explains. "It's...it's that you couldn't handle it, okay, pure and simple. Physically, you're not built to handle what this body can do, and I don't need you to."

"Oh my god," hollers Bucky, opening the truck door and jumping down as he lets out a laugh. "You're not gonna break me with your dick!"

Steve feels hot under the collar as he gets out too. "I might!" he yells back. "You really think I want to explain that to Tony when I gotta call him to give you a ride to the nearest hospital?"

Bucky laughs more, clutching his belly. "You're ridiculous!"

"I'm serious!" retorts Steve, closing the door of the truck behind Lady as she bounds out and races into the house. 

Bucky starts grabbing bags from the truck, still laughing, his cheeks pink with amusement. "Okay, okay, we're not done talking about this, but we have to get everything inside and I need to start organizing and preparing all of this, so we'll pick it up after dinner."

Steve huffs, shaking his head. He heaves up bushels of apples as they carry their groceries into the house, where Lady is slurping up water in the kitchen. Steve and Bucky start piling up their purchases on the table. It takes a few trips to bring everything in, and once they've unloaded the truck, Steve turns his attention to preparing dinner while Bucky works on the groceries. He travels back and forth between the kitchen and the cellar, dividing up a lot of food they bought in quantity, putting the meat in the freezer, and splitting all the fruits and vegetables between the upstairs fridge and the cool shelves in the cellar. 

Steve makes pasta in the meantime, using the last of the summer tomatoes to make a fresh sauce, before he chops up several big handfuls of the chard Bucky picked out, folding it into the sauce to wilt. He's just plating everything up when Bucky emerges from the cellar and goes to the sink to wash his hands. 

"I'm gonna make so much jam," declares Bucky. "Did you know that you can make apple cider on the stovetop? I'm going to do that, too. And then a pie for dessert tomorrow. Maybe two pies. With ice cream."

"You'll be in the kitchen all day," Steve says distractedly. He's still thinking about their not-argument from earlier, knowing that as soon as Bucky picks that particular thread up again, it might turn into a real argument. He doesn't want to argue about it, but Bucky honestly has no idea what he's asking for, here. 

The thing is, Steve also doesn't want to make decisions for Bucky, telling him what's best for him, but.... 

"You look like you're about to burn out a fuse in your brain," says Bucky, pulling Steve out of his thought spiral.

He lets out a breath in a rush, all the tension pushing the air from his lungs. "I just—" he starts, wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it down on the counter. "I don't like making the same mistake twice. I don't want to make a decision for you, not ever again."

Bucky pulls out a chair from the table and sits, looking up at Steve. His expression is thoughtful but fond at the same time, soft around the edges as his eyes dart back and forth, looking Steve over, searching for something. "I appreciate that."

Steve nods once, picking up their plates and bringing them to the table, before he returns for the water glasses and utensils. With the table set, he finally takes his seat across from Bucky, who immediately hooks their ankles together. It eases something in Steve's chest because it's what Bucky always does. Everything is okay, Bucky's here, Bucky will listen and they'll figure this out. They've been together for almost a whole year at this point and they never argue, never disagree, maybe because Steve is always content to give Bucky whatever he wants. 

This is different, obviously, but Steve has to trust in what they've built. "The thing is, Buck," he begins, meeting Bucky's eyes. "I don't feel like you understand because I've never tried to explain, never showed you. You don't have all the context to make the offer you're insisting on making."

"Okay." Bucky smiles, small and encouraging. "But how am I supposed to make an informed decision for myself if I don't have all the information you say I need? You could at least start there, Steve."

Steve's shoulders sag and he has the wild urge to curl in on himself, to make himself as small as he used to be. He doesn't get that urge very often but he feels too big for his skin right now. "Can I..." he trails off, glancing over toward the floorboards. He knows if he pries them up, he'll find the shield, _his_ shield. "Can we eat and let this drop for a little while? I need to think about it."

"Yeah, of course." Bucky looks concerned, his head tipping to the side like Lady's does when she's worried or confused or both. "I'm sorry I pushed you. I didn't realize this was something that might bother you."

Steve shakes his head, smiling just enough that he can feel it reach the corners of his eyes, crinkling them up. "Me neither, pal. It's okay. You got a right to ask, I just...I _am_ happy with how things are, you gotta know that. But I see why you're worried. Just...let's eat and we can watch a movie after dinner and we'll come back around to this."

"Sure." Bucky's toes nudge the back of Steve's calf. "You know I love you no matter what, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Back at ya, honey." 

They tuck into dinner and the conversation turns to Bucky's plans for the ice cream maker. He wants to make regular vanilla to start, but once he gets the hang of it, he has all these flavor combinations he wants to try. It sounds amazing.

Steve gives about 60% of his attention to Bucky throughout, but the other part of his overly quick brain spins through the problem. Or rather, Steve tries to figure out why it's bothering him at all.

They're on the couch hours later, the credits of a movie that Steve barely watched rolling on the screen, when Steve feels like there's more he can articulate to try to make Bucky understand why this feels like an impossible ask. 

Bucky's tucked into his lap, Steve holding him with both arms, and Steve has his nose buried in Bucky's hair, breathing in the soft, sweet, warm scent of him. 

"The thing is," Steve murmurs, and Bucky jerks a little at his voice, like he was close to dozing off. "Sorry," Steve chuckles. "You awake, pal?"

"I'm up," says Bucky, yawning. "What thing?"

"What we were talking about earlier," says Steve. "I've been thinking about it more. And the thing is, there's no unenhanced human on this planet that's built the way I am."

Bucky squirms around enough that Steve releases him. Steve instantly misses the warm weight in his arms, but Bucky sits back far enough that they can actually look each other in the eye as they talk. "So, you're special," says Bucky. "I know that. You once ran a mile in about a minute flat to get to me. Barefoot. In the snow."

"Exactly," says Steve. "I eat about four times as much as you do. I finish everything you can't and I could still put away more. Where do you think that all goes? I got energy and stamina that you just can't match. I love your body, Buck, but it can't meet mine in that way, and that's fine."

"Okay," says Bucky. "But what's the worst thing that's going to happen if we try to satisfy you? I gotta say, getting fucked into exhaustion by your super-powered monster dong is not unappealing as a concept."

Steve groans, covering his face with both hands. "Put that sentence right back in your mouth."

Bucky just giggles. "If you can eat four times as much as I do, then....instead of getting off once or twice, let's shoot for double that. There are things we can try to help me last or keep up with you. Doesn't it sound kind of fun? Don't you want to lovingly wreck my asshole? I know you'll be gentle. You always are. I just want you to feel good, as good as I do, and if that means I give you more, then that's what I want."

"But I do feel good, Buck. I feel so good whenever we have sex. I love all the things we do together." Steve shrugs helplessly. "I don't need any more than you already give me."

"Maybe you don't _need_ more. I believe you. Nobody needs sex. It's not like you'll die if you're not having sex. People don't have sex because they need it, though. They have it because they want it. And I don’t want to push you, here, but I do want you to feel comfortable wanting more from me. It doesn't have to be all the time." Bucky reaches out, fingertip sliding down the bridge of Steve's nose, following the crooked path as he gives Steve a lopsided smile. "It’s okay to want more, to want things for yourself. You don’t have to hold back. Just because my libido can't keep up with yours doesn't mean I _don’t_ want you. It just means I get to take care of you and I really want to do that." 

Steve mulls that over, turning to kiss Bucky's palm when he slides his hand over Steve's beard-covered jaw. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, buddy," says Bucky, tipping forward to kiss Steve, a lingering press of damp lips to his. "I won't let that happen because I'll tell you if it's too much, I promise. That's what I mean by taking care of you. I can let you have what you want, I can give that to you, happily, and I won't let you hurt me because I know it would hurt you right back. You just have to trust me."

Steve shivers at that, his eyes drifting shut as he gives in to his imagination for a moment, letting it play in his mind what it might be like to keep going, to come inside Bucky's willing body and then...not stop, not pull out and tell himself it's done. He's never, ever been disappointed by what he does with Bucky, always felt satisfied, but...

But if he's honest, if he's really really honest with himself, it because he chooses to be, not because his body that always wants more, always keeps going and going, is ready to stop. It's why he always keeps physically active all day long, always throws himself into impossible tasks to burn off as much of his energy as he can. 

"I do trust you," he whispers, the confession falling from his tongue, lifting a burden he didn't know he was carrying. "I trust you to tell me to stop. I just didn't want you to ever have to tell me no. I didn't want to be someone who ever asked for more than you wanted to give."

"You can be so dumb," Bucky says, with such intense fondness that it's almost a physical sensation as his words roll over Steve. When Bucky cups his jaw and pulls him into a kiss, Steve sighs into it, tension seeping out of him with every soft press of Bucky's lips. 

"So I've been told," Steve mumbles against his mouth. 

"Yeah," says Buck, thumb brushing against Steve's cheek. "The thing is, I want to give you everything, idiot. You can't ask for too much because you don't ask at all."

Steve's face feels warm, but Bucky keeps kissing him, soothing his embarrassment and worry. "We'll have to make sure you keep hydrated," he says quietly. "We're not doing this tonight."

Bucky makes a happy noise, throwing his arms around Steve's neck, giving him a tight squeeze. "Feed me, water me, whatever you want, I'll be so good for you, Steve."

Another shiver ripples through him with those words, and Steve hugs him tightly, overcome with affection. "Jesus, Buck."

"Besides," says Bucky, his voice cheeky and smug. "I'm twenty-one years old, Steve. I'm, like, peak horny. We've gotta take advantage of my libido when I am ready to go pretty much all the time."

Steve snorts, amusement bubbling up in a rush. "Fine. Fine! But tomorrow, okay? You can spend the day in the kitchen and I'm going to go...wrestle Rufus or something. Whatever I can think of to exhaust myself so that maybe my body will be a little closer to normal."

Bucky laughs wholeheartedly, then, his head tipping back and throat exposed as bright, happy chuckles tumble out. "You leave poor Rufus alone. He's stressed enough. I think he struck out this past mating season."

"Well, maybe he needs to burn off energy too!" teases Steve, feeling much more cheerful now. 

"You sound like you're gonna try to fuck a bear instead of fight one, Steve." Bucky rolls his eyes. "Please stay away from all local wildlife."

"That took a turn," mutters Steve, still amused. "Got it. I'll just go for a run. You said you wished you'd gotten more parchment paper when we were at the store. I could go get some."

"You're gonna run to town and back?" 

"Yeah, and then maybe I'll start clearing that area out back for the expansion."

Bucky laughs again and slings his leg over Steve's hip so he can settle in his lap. He waggles his eyebrows. "Alright, lumberjack, take me to bed. Just 'cause we're not starting the marathon tonight doesn't mean we shouldn't get some practice in."

Steve huffs, wrapping his arms around Bucky securely before he stands up, Bucky instinctively clinging to Steve's hips with his thighs. 

Bucky's eyes are bright with the show of strength, Steve giving him an indulgent kiss as he totes him into the bedroom. "You really do get off on this, huh."

"What? That you're impossibly strong and can throw me around like a baseball? Noooo," Bucky says mockingly. "That's not hot at all. Why would you even think that?"

"You're a brat," Steve chuckles, sitting Bucky on the edge of their bed and releasing him. 

Bucky flops back lazily, arms stretched out above his head. "Yep. That's me. You know what we should do, to ease you into asking for stuff?"

"What?" asks Steve warily, straightening up and looking down at Bucky, sprawled out in perfect comfort, his legs hanging over the end of the bed. 

"You should tell me what you want."

Steve blinks. "What?"

"Right now," says Bucky. "How do you want me?"

Steve falters. "I just want you, Buck."

"Oh my god," groans Bucky, covering his eyes with his hand and laughing. "Take it one step further, genius. Do you want to fuck me? Do you want me to fuck you? Or do you maybe want me to suck your dick? How would you like to give or receive pleasure, Steve?"

Steve blows out a breath. "You basically just asked how I want a cake sliced. I don't care. I just want to eat the cake."

"Did you just compare me to a piece of cake?" asks Bucky, sitting up on his elbows. 

"Well, you are real sweet, honey." Steve grins, hoping to garner some goodwill. 

Bucky purses his lips. "You're impossible. I prefer square slices, it's a more even distribution of frosting."

"Hmmm, interesting. But what about corner pieces? Or round cakes?" He's riling Bucky up now, watching gleefully as he narrows his eyes at Steve. 

"Oh my god! This is like when I try to ask you what your favorite flavor of jam is and you say 'all of them'." Bucky pushes himself all the way up into a sitting position and pulls his sweater up and off his head, tossing it to the side. "But you sure did make a face when I canned onion jelly."

"The smell was awful!" protests Steve, but he follows Bucky's lead, stripping off his own flannel and his undershirt too. "That's completely different. _You_ smell real good, Buck."

Bucky lets out an aggrieved sigh, but there's no real irritation behind it, judging by the corner of his upturned mouth and the appreciative sweep of his eyes up Steve's naked chest. "A guy could get a swelled head, listening to you."

"That's not the body part I think I'm about to see swell," Steve retorts, raising an eyebrow. 

Bucky stares at him. "Do you accept constructive criticism on your innuendo?"

"No," says Steve, grinning. He tucks his thumb into the waistband of his jeans, and Bucky's eyes drop immediately to watch Steve peel them off and step out of them. 

"Stop distracting me with bad wordplay and your body," Bucky says, huffing sulkily. 

"It's working, isn't it?"

"Of course it's working! But it's not going to make me forget you haven't answered my question," Bucky says accusingly. "If you were fantasizing about sex right now, what would you be doing?"

Steve bites his lip. Well. That's not something he considered. Fantasies are just fantasies, right? They're private. Sometimes they get enacted, but never with Steve actually requesting a fulfillment of one. Bucky's looking at him so earnestly. He wants to know the answer. 

"I get off on giving you pleasure, too," Bucky continues, reading Steve's hesitation as a need for more elaboration. "So it's not selfish to ask for me to suck your dick or whatever. Is that what you get hung up on?"

"I guess so," admits Steve. "I didn't realize I was doing it, or that you'd noticed."

"Not immediately," clarifies Bucky. "And it hasn't been making me enjoy sex any less, if that's what you're thinking. It's just that it's a little bit of work, sometimes, to get you to give into your own pleasure. I gotta try different stuff to figure out what'll make you go crosseyed that day, because you don't ever tell me."

Steve feels heat in his face all the way down to his stomach. "You do that?" Steve always thought Bucky was just scattered, jumping from one thing to the next.

"Well...yeah. Told you, I like making you feel good, knowing what I do, my body, what I say...that all that makes you feel good. It's kind of a power trip, Steve." His expression is wry. "Don't know if you know this, but you're hot, buddy. A real looker. I like knowing I'm the one you want, the one who makes you come apart. And I definitely wouldn't mind if you told me what you wanted, let me know what you're thinking about me."

"Oh." Steve feels struck dumb, overwhelmed. It seems obvious now that Bucky, who loves him and cares about him, would take pleasure in Steve's pleasure; it's not like it's very different in the reverse. Although, Steve realizes now that what he gets out of taking care of Bucky feels selfish. If there's one thing Steve is greedy for, it's Bucky's happiness and pleasure, the rush of pride that Steve feels knowing he's making Bucky's life good. 

"Yeah, _oh_," mocks Bucky, but it's not unkind. He reaches down and unbuckles his skinny jeans, pushing them over his hips. "So believe me, I'm eager to hear what it is you want from me, what you think about, fantasize about...it makes me feel sexy, knowing you want me that much."

"God," groans Steve. "I do, honey. I want you so much. I do think about it, all the time."

Steve watches hungrily as Bucky wriggles out of his pants, realizing belatedly that he's not wearing any underwear under the skin-tight fabric. When he's entirely naked, Bucky lays back again and beckons to Steve with a cheeky grin. "Tell me about it, stud."

Steve kneels on the edge of the bed and slowly plants his hands on the mattress, crawling over Bucky's legs to straddle his hips, settling there. He looks down at Bucky, spread out appealingly, and what he actually wants hits him like a punch to the chest. 

As Bucky slides his hands up Steve's sides to rest at his waist, Steve licks his lips and swallows, heat pooling in his belly. 

"Think I have an idea of how we should spend this evening," he murmurs, very gently rocking his ass down against Bucky's hardening cock. 

Bucky's eyes go wide, his lips spreading into a delighted grin. "Yeah?"

"Think I'd like to ride this pretty cock of yours, baby," Steve says gruffly. "What do you think?"

"Yeah," breathes Bucky. "Yeah, please."

Which is exactly what they do. 

Flushed with want, Steve opens himself up leisurely and sinks down onto Bucky's cock, watching the wave of bliss that washes over Bucky's face as he does so. This positions keeps Steve engaged more than he expects, too, because he has to brace himself upright, thighs and stomach tensed as he rolls his hips to fuck down onto Bucky's cock without applying too much weight and pressure. He takes his pleasure eagerly, though it's clear Bucky is equally turned on, squirming and panting, flush suffusing his cheeks and chest as he arches his hips to meet Steve's thrusts. 

Steve doesn't touch his own cock throughout, which lets him last longer, and eventually Bucky starts to tense up, on the brink of orgasm. 

"Ah, fuck, Steve," he gasps, clutching at Steve's thighs. "I'm so ready, I'm gonna come!"

Steve surprises himself by whining. "Can you hang on a little longer?"

Bucky sobs, fingers digging into Steve's skin. "Uh, y-yeah. You want more?"

Steve nods wildly. "Don't come yet. Don't come, just a little more, Buck. Just a little more."

Bucky sucks in a startled gasp, squeezing his eyes shut, but he nods. "Yeah, _fuck_—oh my god, that's so hot, Steve, that's so—I can hold on for you, I can, just...please, want you to come."

Steve leans forward, hovering over Bucky with one hand planted on the mattress above his shoulder. Steve screws himself back onto Bucky's cock, his other hand squirming between them to finally wrap around his own neglected dick. Bucky's fingers clutch at Steve's thighs and hips and ass, encouraging Steve to move, holding on as Steve takes his pleasure. 

It doesn't take long now, not when Steve can see Bucky desperately holding himself back for Steve, knowing that Bucky wants to make him feel good like this. Steve clenches around Bucky's cock, wanting to feel every inch of friction he can as he grinds down and jerks his own cock. 

With a rough cry, Steve comes, splashing thick and wet across Bucky's stomach and chest with every wave of cascading pleasure. Practically in tandem, Bucky moans, hips snapping up as he follows Steve over the precipice.

Bucky definitely has a point, here. 

“Oh my god,” Bucky pants raggedly. “Oh my god, that was _so_ hot. Fuck.”

“Thank you,” says Steve, stunned. 

Bucky nods vaguely, eyes closed, and gives Steve a thumbs up. “You’re _so_ welcome.”


	2. Bucky

When Bucky wakes up the next morning, Steve's not in bed. 

Vaguely, he hears him out in the kitchen, talking to Lady. "Now you be a good girl and watch out for Bucky, okay? I'll be back in a few hours, just gonna go for a long run."

There's a very quiet whine and then Steve's voice again, "No, don't look at me like that. This is too far for you, pretty Lady. Stay here, I'll be back soon."

The kitchen door pulls shut and then Bucky hears the bedroom door creak open, Lady's tags jingling lightly as she pads into the room and hops up on the bed, heaving a very large sigh as she lays down, just close enough to press her cold nose right against Bucky's back. He yelps and turns over, scowling at her, but her mouth falls open, tongue lolling as she gives him a big doggy grin. 

"Oh you're too cute," he grumbles, his jaw cracking on a yawn. "You know just what you're doing, don't you?"

She wags her tail, letting out a little _wuff_ and then something like a trill, as if she's actually participating in this conversation.

Bucky grins helplessly, reaching out to scratch her ears while he comes to terms with being awake. 

If Steve's going out for a run on his own, it means he's already fed and walked Lady for at least an hour. There's probably breakfast waiting for him in the kitchen, too, and he can definitely smell coffee. Dragging himself out of bed, Bucky goes to the bathroom, keeping the door open for Lady, who's a weirdo that likes to lie on the bathroom floor while he takes a shower. 

When he emerges, marginally more awake and ravenously hungry, she waits patiently while he dresses himself in a soft hoodie and a pair of stretchy leggings. In the kitchen, he finds exactly what he was expecting: coffee brewed, with the coffee maker set to warm, and a note on the counter in Steve's long, looping handwriting that says _breakfast is in the oven_. 

Bucky leans against the counter, briefly overcome by Steve's thoughtfulness. The aforementioned breakfast is some kind of frittata, with thick layers of tender potato, fluffy egg, onion, bacon, and cheese. Bucky devours it, packing the leftovers up to store in the fridge. He also feeds Lady a treat, because she sits pleadingly at his knees for the entire meal, and then Bucky sips at his coffee while he sets up his laptop on the table and rereads the recipes he wants to make today. 

By the time Steve returns, two hours later, Bucky's jam and pie factory is in full swing. 

"Oh wow," gasps Steve, the door swinging open in a rush of brisk fall air. "It smells incredible in here. I caught a whiff almost a mile out."

"I know, isn't it great?" asks Bucky, taking him in with some degree of surprise. This is the first time Bucky's actually seen Steve demonstrate some degree of exertion. He's actually breathing hard, cheeks flushed, and he is damp with sweat all over.

Bucky licks his lips, his pulse kicking up in response to the sudden rush of blood to his cock. He looks good enough to eat. Steve walks across the kitchen, setting down the parchment paper he retrieved for Bucky before he turns to the sink, leaning over and turning on the faucet to drink directly from the stream of water. When he's done, he straightens up, takes the bottom of his t-shirt, and pulls it up to wipe his face, flashing his glistening abs in the process. 

When he drops his shirt, muscles disappearing from view, a whine escapes from Bucky's lungs before he even realizes what's happening. 

"It's real great," says Steve, looking amused as he stands in their kitchen looking like all of Bucky's wet dreams combined. 

"Uh, what?" Bucky asks dumbly. He has no idea what Steve is talking about right now.

A big grin spreads across Steve's stupidly attractive face. "The smell. From whatever you're making, honey."

"From what I'm making," he repeats. "Oh."

Steve pushes off from the counter and prowls over to him. There's no other word for it. "It's cute when you do this, y'know? Flattering."

"Do what?" Bucky swallows, wondering when he started breathing so quickly. 

Steve gets right in his space, a hand on either side of his hips, holding onto the counter behind Bucky, caging him in. "I think the kids call it being _thirsty_."

Bucky whimpers. His cock perks up in response to Steve's proximity, the way he's fencing Bucky in but not touching him, and he can barely string a response together. "The kids," he squeaks. "You're hip now, huh?"

Steve chuckles, a low rumble of sound, and he shifts his weight, all of his muscles tensing appealingly. "That's me. Hip with just you, kid."

"Fuck," Bucky says thinly. "Oh my god, Steve."

Steve kisses him, leaning in smoothly, a firm, confident press of his lips. Bucky's pathetic noise is muffled by his mouth. Steve coaxes him to part his lips for the lewd sweep of his tongue, Bucky settling his hands on Steve's broad chest, feeling weak-kneed. Then Steve pulls away, breaks the kiss and steps back completely, leaving Bucky panting in horny confusion. 

"Just a taste, for later," says Steve easily. "You have lots to do, here, and I don't want to get in your way. I'm going to go take a shower."

"Oh my god," repeats Bucky, leaning heavily on the counter to support himself. "You evil bastard."

Steve raises an eyebrow, backing out of the kitchen. "You were so excited about jam and pie and ice cream, Buck. I don't want to stop you."

"Fuck," yells Bucky. "Fine! Get out of here. Leave me alone with my boner to can all this jam."

"As long as you don't can your boner," says Steve, disappearing from view.

Bucky calls after him, "That doesn't even make sense!" 

Steve doesn't answer and moments later, Bucky hears the shower kick on. "Whatever," he mutters to himself, looking over at Lady where she’s sprawled on the living room rug, soaking up the afternoon sunshine. "Steve's the worst."

She snorts, shaking her head as she rolls to her feet and trots away, no doubt to sit in the bathroom and supervise Steve, too. Rolling his eyes, Bucky turns back to his peaches. Eventually, Steve reappears with damp hair and a fresh flannel shirt and jeans, kissing Bucky's cheek as he heads out the door with his furry shadow. "Gonna go stake out the outline for where the extension is gonna go, then maybe take Lady for another walk. I'll be back in a few hours."

Bucky waves him off. "Alright, I oughta be done with most of this by then. I'll make some sandwiches for lunch. Also just so you know, I have not forgiven you and will expect some serious compensation for leaving me high and dry."

Steve smiles. "I've got some ideas. Don't you worry."

"You better!" calls Bucky, as Steve pulls his jacket on and whistles for Lady. "I'll be waiting here, consumed by lust for the rest of the afternoon."

Steve winks at him and shuts the door, disappearing out into the yard. 

Bucky lets out a deep, shuddering breath. "Fuck," he says softly. He picks himself up, straightening his clothes and readjusting his dick. Then he washes his hands again, makes some sandwiches, and eats his over the sink. He leaves a plate in the fridge for Steve and gets back to work. 

While Steve is gone, Bucky finishes canning, putting all his jars into the freezer, and then he makes two pies, one with berries, and one with the last of the peaches. With both of the pies in the oven, Bucky figures out how to make ice cream for the first time. 

Steve returns when the ice cream maker is churning, again heading straight for the sink to drink from the tap, Lady trailing after him and going to her own water bowl. 

"Sandwiches are in the fridge," says Bucky. "You must be starving."

"Getting there," admits Steve. "Can you feed Lady while I feed myself?"

"Of course," says Bucky. He portions out her kibble, then spoons in half a can of wet food, mixing it all together. Lady wolfs it down, drinks more water, and then wanders into the living room and flops onto her bed, clearly exhausted. "Well," says Bucky, turning to look at Steve while he inhales his late lunch. "You definitely tired out Lady."

He grunts, mouth full, and Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. "I put all the jam in the freezer. It's not cooked, so we have to store it in there. The pies are cooling, and the ice cream will be done churning in a few minutes, but then I gotta freeze it for a couple hours."

Steve swallows a big mouthful. "And then what?"

"Then what, _what_?"

"You got any other projects, anything else you need to finish up?" He wipes his mouth with a napkin.

Bucky shakes his head. "No, that'll be it for my day. Figured we could have the last of the chicken soup in the freezer for dinner, and some of the bread I got at the market, nothing too heavy, so we have room for pie."

"So," says Steve after he polishes off his last sandwich in two bites. "That means I can scoop you up, carry you to our bed, and start making it up to you?"

It feels like Steve is pinning him in place with his gaze and it's such a departure from their conversation yesterday that Bucky feels a little like he might have whiplash. "You're, uh, really taking it to heart, huh? What I told you about taking initiative."

"Mmm, yeah," confirms Steve, sweeping a look over Bucky before he meets his eyes again. "Why? Is it...bothering you? Too much? I don't have to, I told you, I was happy with—"

"No, no! I like it. It's really good, I swear. I like it a lot." Bucky hooks their feet together under the table as he sits down. "I'm just...confirming that it's really working for me. Making sure you're...enjoying yourself too."

"I am," Steve says at length. He grins at Bucky. "I really am. I like how, um, how you react to it. I know the point of this is for me to ask for the things that I want, but I want it more, knowing you like it this much."

"I really do like it," says Bucky. "In ten minutes, you can scoop me up, carry me to bed, and have your way with me."

Steve sits back in his chair, nodding slowly. "I'll do the dishes."

Steve does exactly that, washing the dishes from lunch and a few odds and ends that Bucky hadn't gotten to yet after the jam, though he'd been washing as he worked to avoid being overwhelmed. When the ice cream maker stops, Bucky removes the bowl, scoops the ice cream into a container, smooths it all out, and puts it in the freezer. Then he turns around, sighing in satisfaction, and finds that Steve already took the bowl and washed it, and he's now leaning against the counter, drying his hands and looking at Bucky with dark eyes. 

"All done?" he asks mildly. 

Bucky's arousal makes a big screaming comeback. He nods eagerly. 

Steve's suddenly right there, sweeping Bucky straight off his feet and into his arms while Bucky lets out a delighted shriek. In the living room, Lady doesn't even raise her head, conked out in her bed. Steve shuts the bedroom door behind them, then sets Bucky down on his feet and starts to undress him. 

"I made a stop, in town," says Steve, tugging Bucky's hoodie up over his head. "Got a couple things for us."

Bucky blinks, dumbfounded. "You did? What?" They don't need anything that Bucky can think of. He just restocked the lube. 

"Well, not _in_ town, exactly," says Steve, tucking his fingers into the waistband of Bucky's leggings and rolling them down his thighs. "More like....a store just off the highway."

"Oh my god," says Bucky. "The store that doesn't have a facade or a sign?"

"That's the one," Steve says, big hands sweeping down Bucky's calves.

Bucky feels a little lightheaded. "God," he breathes out. "The idea of you going in there, for us, for me..."

"You like that, honey? Me searching through all the kinky toys for just the right present for you?" murmurs Steve, lifting one foot and then the other, easing Bucky out of his leggings. "Made it real easy to latch on to a couple of fantasies I hope you'll help me out with tonight."

"Yes," he blurts, so quick he's not sure he even thought about it. He _is_ sure he doesn't need to rethink it. "Anything, whatever you want. Please."

Steve straightens up, hands sliding over Bucky's knees and thighs until they curl around his hips and pull him forward. "I want to fuck you," says Steve, and it hits Bucky then that he's never heard Steve say that. Bucky's always been the one to ask to be fucked and Steve enthusiastically and creatively met that demand. 

But not once, not a single time in the past year, has Steve so plainly and assertively made his desires known. He's always stopped short at saying something endearing but generic like, 'I want you.' This is different. It turns Bucky's knees to jelly. He loops his arms around Steve's neck, pushing up on his tiptoes. "God, _yes_."

Picking him up easy as can be, Steve carries him to the bed and deposits him there. "I want to watch you come on my cock. I don't want you to come at all tonight unless I'm inside you. That alright with you?"

It feels like Steve's words punch all the air out of his lungs. Holy fuck. "Yes," he says breathlessly. "Yes, anything you want, that's way more than alright with me."

Steve stands back, mirroring their positions from last night; Bucky watches Steve undress with wide eyes, drinking him in greedily. God, he's beautiful. He's so beautiful. Bright blue eyes fix hungrily on Bucky as he strips naked and Bucky is helpless to look away. Steve doesn't join Bucky on the bed, though, instead circling around the side to get the lube out of the bedside table. 

"You gonna fuck me?" Bucky asks roughly, scooting back to settle into the pillows. "You gonna fuck me until I can't even think, and then fuck me some more?"

"That's the idea," Steve says steadily. He has lube in hand, and he sits on the bed at Bucky's hip, planting a hand over him and leaning in for a kiss. It's filthy, and wet, and Steve cups Bucky's jaw, tipping his face up firmly until he's breathless and panting. 

"Oh, god," Bucky mumbles. "You are _so_ hot."

Steve's warm chuckle rumbles all the way through Bucky. "You're not too hard on the eyes yourself. Ready for round one?"

"Please," moans Bucky, struck dumb by the acknowledgement that there is definitely going to be more than one round. "I've been ready for hours, you know that!"

"I hear anticipation makes it better," teases Steve, leaning in to kiss Bucky again. Bucky bites at his lip in retaliation. It only makes Steve hiss and kiss him harder which…_wow_. 

Wow, Bucky was not prepared for how sexy it would be for Steve to get a little pushy and controlling in bed. It's scorchingly hot. "Can't make it better if I'm dead from blue balls."

Steve laughs and climbs up on the bed more fully, big hands wrapping nearly all the way around Bucky's thighs and spreading them wide. "Hold yourself open for me, grab your legs."

Bucky's eyes widen but he obeys immediately, tongue feeling too big in his mouth to say anything smart back. He grasps his legs behind the knees where Steve directs him and pulls them close to his chest. 

"Good," praises Steve. "That's so good. You're so beautiful, honey."

Hot tears suddenly burn at Bucky's eyes and he blinks rapidly trying to hold them back. "What the fuck."

"I say something wrong, Buck?" asks Steve, his tone changing quickly.

Bucky shakes his head. "No, I—it's good. I promise, I'll tell you to stop if I need it. Remember? You gotta trust me to tell you. I just..." he takes a breath, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "I just...really love how you make me feel. It caught me off guard, is all."

Steve's expression is so warm. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to each of Bucky's knees. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything else. He seems to understand that if Bucky has to talk about this any longer, he really is going to start crying and not stop for a while. 

Now is not the time for crying. Now is the time to get dicked the fuck down. 

Steve does trust him, moving on from Bucky's embarrassingly emotional reaction and squeezing out some lube. Continuing with his kisses, Steve rubs slick fingers gently between Bucky's spread legs, just behind his balls. 

"Ah," gasps Bucky, squirming. He's so exposed in this position and the firm pressure of Steve's fingers teases at the sensitive skin of his perineum, making his dick twitch. 

"That's it," murmurs Steve. "Relax for me. Want my fingers?"

"Yes," groans Bucky, nodding eagerly. "Yes, please."

Steve doesn't respond right away, teasing two fingers over and around his hole for what feels like a glacial age before one fingertip dips inside him. A glancing touch, withdrawn almost immediately. Bucky groans helplessly. "Got something to say, Buck?" asks Steve innocently. 

"You're teasing," mumbles Bucky. 

Steve hums, circling Bucky's rim. "Am I? I suppose I am. Can you blame me for wanting to watch your sweet face?"

Bucky feels warm all over, sweat prickling his skin as his head tosses. "Can't you watch and give me more?" he whines, adjusting the grip on the backs of his knees before he accidentally kicks Steve in the head. 

"I suppose I could..." Steve trails off, fingertip tracing his rim, slick circles again and again as Bucky shakes. And then finally, _finally_, Steve applies more pressure, slides inside of him until his finger plunges as deep as it'll go, and Bucky's mouth falls open on a gasp. "Oh, but that's nice to look at, too."

Bucky blinks, eyes fluttering as he tries to process how thoroughly Steve is wrecking him, and he's barely even started. "Steeeeve." 

"Yeah?"

"Please! Please, I need it, I need more!" pleads Bucky, hips trying to rock up into Steve's touch.

"You're not going to be able to stay like this comfortably, are you," Steve says, but he doesn't seem to be talking to Bucky rather than just musing to himself. He shifts directly between Bucky's thighs, wrapping one hand loosely around Bucky's ankle and tugging it up. "Over my shoulders. Then I'll still get this pretty view."

"Oh, god," says Bucky, heat flooding him in a hot rush of arousal. Shakily, he guides his calves over Steve's shoulders, letting out a sigh as he lets himself relax, resting his legs. "Oh, fuck, god."

"Comfy?" Steve asks mildly, twisting his finger inside Bucky and crooking it into just the right place to make him jerk. 

Bucky makes a tortured noise. "Yes, that's better, now please keep going."

"We have all afternoon," says Steve calmly. "I plan to enjoy you before we break for dinner."

He starts to rock his finger in and out of Bucky's body, though, finally giving him some friction, even though Bucky could do with a bit more, well, _girth_.

"Another?" he begs. "Please?"

"So impatient," chides Steve, but he gives Bucky a second finger, the stretch of it almost like relief. It won't last, though, nothing will be enough for Bucky until it’s Steve's cock. 

But Steve wants to play with him, tease him, wants to watch him stretch open slowly, and Bucky wants desperately to give Steve what he wants. "M'sorry," he mumbles. "I'll be good, I'll be patient. It's just—"

"You're just not used to it, are you, honey?" Steve turns his head, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Bucky's calf. "You don't usually have to wait, do you?"

Bucky shakes his head, admitting just how spoiled he is with Steve. 

"I know, but you really are so pretty when you beg, Buck. Don't think anyone could blame me for wanting to see you hot and bothered." Steve smiles at him, and Bucky feels him sliding his fingers in and out, rubbing and stretching, getting him ready. It feels so good. 

Steve's fingers crook, his thumb sliding with firm pressure against his perineum, and Bucky moans at the perfect sweet sensation of having his prostate played with, molten pleasure rushing up in waves that match the rhythm of Steve's fingers.

"That's it," Steve croons. "That's my sweet boy. Look at you, I can't get enough. I can never get enough. I do want you all the time, Buck. I always want more."

"You can have it," gasps Bucky, skin prickling with sweat as he writhes on Steve's fingers, trying to relax into the slow, teasing stretch, to give in to being played with and opened up on Steve's terms. He can be patient. He doesn't need to rush this. "You can have as much as you want, over and over again."

Steve takes it to heart; Bucky has no idea how long it takes for him to even fill Bucky up with three fingers, but he's a flushed mess by the time Steve works him open with anything more than delicate caution. Bucky grips the bed sheets in both hands, knuckles white, head thrown back as he breathes raggedly. His cock is aching, curved up against his stomach, smearing his belly with precome. He's digging his heels into Steve's broad shoulders, spine arched up off the mattress. 

"You look like you're ready," Steve murmurs. "Unless you'd like a bit of a break? You're breathing pretty hard, there, Bucky."

"No," he whimpers. "I don't need a break! Please, I'm ready, I'm ready for you."

"And you've been so good, giving me what I want," says Steve, fingers slipping free. "Think you've really earned this."

Bucky nods dazedly, breath hitching with the thick press of Steve's cock, stretching him open just how he needs, slick and heavy. He tips his head back and tries to remember how to breathe.

"Oh honey," groans Steve, warm and close, folding Bucky in half to kiss him. "You feel so good, always such a perfect fit for me. There you go, take it, just take what you've earned."

Tears burn his eyes again, threatening to spill, his head a mess of thoughts and feelings and sensations, all of them good, all of them overwhelming. He nods, reaching up to cling to Steve, grabbing onto him wherever he can reach. "I need—I, please, Steve!"

"Shhh," hushes Steve, easing Bucky's legs down from his shoulders to wrap around Steve's middle. Bucky sobs with relief as Steve eases his hips back and drives them forward again. "I've got you, honey. Just you and me, we got all the time in the world. Gonna fill you up."

Bucky doesn't even bother trying to talk anymore. He's got his arms wrapped around Steve's neck and shoulders, he's squeezing his legs tight around Steve's waist, and Steve's cock is finally inside him. There's nothing to beg for, nothing he needs. 

It's just this, it's just Steve, wrapping him up in his arms and filling him up. Bucky muffles a moan in Steve's shoulder, clutching at him. He's along for the ride, or...maybe he _is_ the ride? 

A deep plunge of Steve's hips at the perfect angle has him abandoning that train of thought, arching into Steve and gasping. Bucky is just a mass of nerves, brain stuttering when he tries to put together thoughts more complex than _feels good_ and _love Steve_.__

_ _He is making noise, he realizes belatedly; soft, punched-out exhalations in tune with the snap of Steve's hips, and Steve is talking to him in return, though it's low and loving and if Bucky thinks harder about what Steve's saying, he'll be in danger of crying again. Instead, he focuses on the hot, hard length splitting him open, sinking deep, sparking him up like flint to kindling. _ _

_ _Burning him up, consuming him whole. _ _

_ _"You can," Steve murmurs, kissing at his jaw again and again. "You can, baby, you can come."_ _

_ _Is Bucky talking? He must be, Steve's replying. He's— _ _

_ _Asking permission, and Steve's giving it. _ _

_ _"Oh, fuck, thank you. Thank you, Steve," he slurs. "Thank you, thank you—"_ _

_ _"Give it to me," Steve coaxes. "I know you need to come, Bucky, give it to me, please? I want to feel you come around me."_ _

_ _It's like his body is just as on board as his heart and mind when it comes to giving Steve whatever he wants because those sweet words sink in and he's helpless to the orgasm that follows. White hot pleasure courses through him, spreads from some point deep inside until his whole body arches up, shaking and trembling. _ _

_ _Bucky's no stranger to good sex—to truly excellent orgasms, not anymore—but this one is definitely...something. His cock pulses messily, dripping between them, leaving him empty and full all at once. He realizes he's shivering with the aftershocks when Steve's lips brush his jaw and his cheek, muttering softly, "You're okay, there you go. So good, that was so beautiful, Buck. Did so good for me."_ _

_ _Bucky finally gives into the hot spill of tears, letting it burn through him as he clutches at Steve. Steve's hips still, buried deep, but he's not moving anymore and that just isn’t in the spirit of these sexcapades. "Don't stop, please. Keep going, take what you need. I want you to. Please, Steve."_ _

_ _Steve lets out a harsh gasp as he presses his face to Bucky's throat and does as he's told, fucking into Bucky in a hurried rhythm that lights Bucky up with oversensitive jolts. He cries out, burying his hands in Steve's hair to hold him close._ _

_ _Continuing to fuck Bucky after he’s come is something Steve is always careful not to do, but there's nothing Bucky wants more, and the nerve-bright edge of overstimulation is almost, _almost_ too much for him. _ _

_ _He feels raw inside, worn and thin, but Steve's holding him so close, murmuring praise in his ear, and his proximity, the warmth and solidity of his body, overrides the sharp burn until it fades abruptly._ _

_ _"That's it," he finds himself gasping, legs locked tight around Steve's pounding hips. "That's it, come on, Steve. Don't stop. Don't you dare stop, you take what you need, okay? I've got you, I've got you...."_ _

_ _The noise out of Steve's mouth is akin to a sob. He's responsive during sex, of course, effusive in his love and enjoyment, but it's not often he gets broken down like this, too. There's a tremor in his hands and spine, Bucky soothing and stroking him through it, encouraging, eager. _ _

_ _"That's it," whispers Bucky into his ear. Steve's close, he knows it, because he's gotten quiet, intense, and there's single-minded focus in the efficient movement of his body. "Can I have it? Please, Steve, let me feel you inside me."_ _

_ _Steve stifles a cry in Bucky's shoulder, pinning him hard with his hips as he comes inside him. His powerful body, all that muscle, goes achingly still, before a shudder ripples through him and he breathes out raggedly. _ _

_ _Bucky kisses his cheek, rubs a hand up his arm. When Steve raises his head, Bucky grins at him._ _

_ _"Bucky," Steve says softly. He dips in for a kiss that's so horribly tender Bucky wants to wrap him in a blanket and hide him in the circle of his arms for the rest of time. _ _

_ _"Hey," whispers Bucky. "Hi, gorgeous."_ _

_ _"Hi," Steve breathes. His eyes flutter closed for a moment and he seems to compose himself before he opens them again. "Thank you."_ _

_ _Bucky feels giddy happiness bubble up in his chest and he grins at Steve. "Back at you. That was incredible. I'm so glad you let me give you that."_ _

_ _Steve's cheeks have gone pink, whether from actual exertion or embarrassment, Bucky's not sure, but either way it's pretty on him. _ _

_ _Pressing a kiss to Bucky's lips, Steve starts to pull back. Bucky frowns. Even though he knows Steve just came, he's still hard, still filling Bucky up. "Whoa, wait a second," he blurts, locking his ankles behind Steve's back to keep him from going anywhere. "You're not done."_ _

_ _Steve freezes, eyes wide. "Buck..."_ _

_ _"No, don't 'Buck' me." Bucky wraps his arms more securely around Steve's neck. "_Fuck_ me."_ _

_ _"Oh my god," groans Steve. "I can't believe you just said that to me."_ _

_ _"Can't you?" Bucky wriggles, clenching down around the thick press of Steve's cock inside of him, still not losing any interest despite Bucky's horrible turn of phrase. "Come on, you said—you said you would keep going, you would show me what you're really capable of!"_ _

_ _Steve shivers in Bucky's hold, hips jerking forward once at Bucky's teasing. "You're not even hard again yet!"_ _

_ _"That doesn't matter," says Bucky, grinding encouragingly. "If you keep screwing me, I'll get there again. This is about you, anyway. You get to come as many times as you want, as many times as you need."_ _

_ _Steve's cheeks are very red now, and he's clearly affected by this, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Bucky admires the sweep of his long lashes against his freckled cheek. "A-ah, god, Bucky. You feel..."_ _

_ _"Good, right?" asks Bucky, rocking his ass back onto the tentative roll of Steve's hips. "It does feel good for me, too, it's just a little....intense." He gasps as Steve's thick cock rubs over his sensitive prostate. "Oh, yeah, just like that."_ _

_ _Steve licks his lips, blue eyes just a little glassy, but he's moving more confidently again. His hairline is damp with sweat, the flush spreading down his chest. _ _

_ _"You're so beautiful like this," groans Bucky. "God, yeah, come on, Steve." It's not quite arousal that's building at his core, not yet. It's not unpleasant, but it is a little sharp. When Steve gives him a particularly deep thrust, his body jolts hotly in response, warmth spreading over his skin, all over his body. _ _

_ _Steve gathers him up, kisses him deep and wet. He's panting raggedly, his breathing picking up again. Bucky curls his fingers into Steve's hair with both hands, tugging lightly. _ _

_ _"Come on," he gasps, stunned stupid by how intense this feels. "Come on, come on, I know you're close. Will you still be hard after this? God, that would be amazing. I could suck your cock, then, so you could come in my mouth, too. Would you like that?"_ _

_ _"Ah, fuck, _fuck_," hisses Steve, suddenly pushing deep and grinding against Bucky's ass. Bucky clenches down in response, the sensation dizzying but so filthy-perfect as Steve comes inside of him again. Bucky feels it making a mess of him, filled up twice now. _ _

_ _God, one of these days, he wants to get Steve to fuck him again and again until he's absolutely dripping with Steve's come. He's maybe developed a bit of kink for Steve being able to fuck him bare, ever since he discovered the truth about the whole Captain America thing. It's a definite perk._ _

_ _As it is, Steve is trembling in his hold, his hips rocking in little needy jerks all through his aftershocks, as if now that he's discovered what it feels like to keep going, he doesn't want to stop. Well, Bucky's okay with that._ _

_ _Eventually, though, Steve does roll off of Bucky with a grunt, flopping back onto his back. "Oh."_ _

_ _Bucky laughs, tender and tingly all over, his cock a respectable half-chub, having finally tipped back in the direction of active arousal. While Steve lays beside him, contemplating the universe or whatever the fuck, Bucky reaches a curious hand down between his legs and bites his lip at the sloppy mess he finds, rim sensitive and a little puffy, come leaking from him. He pushes two fingers in just to feel it, sighing contentedly._ _

_ _Feeling very lazy, Bucky fingers himself, enjoying the slow burn as his arousal builds again._ _

_ _Next to him, Steve throws his arm over his eyes, lips parted as he breathes heavily, chest rising and falling. The fact that Steve actually needs to take a moment to catch his breath after that... It's really kind of flattering. _ _

_ _After a minute or two, he stirs again, dropping his arm and propping himself up on one elbow. He catches sight of Bucky with two fingers buried in his ass and his eyes widen a little. "You can't be serious, Bucky," he says roughly. _ _

_ _Bucky smirks at him, feeling very wanton and debauched as he draws one leg up to give himself a better angle to press his fingers in more deeply. He feels so open and empty without Steve inside him, but while Steve's spent cock isn't totally soft, he's also not erect anymore, either. _ _

_ _Honestly, Bucky was half-hoping he really would still be hard. _ _

_ _Steve's eyes darken, gaze settling heavily on the slow plunge of Bucky's fingers inside himself. "You're a bit messy," he says lowly. "I could clean you up."_ _

_ _Heat floods Bucky's body. "Oh, fuck," he mumbles. "Steve—"_ _

_ _"I've got you," says Steve, scooting in to settle between Bucky's legs. "I'm going to put my mouth on you, is that okay?" He pauses. "It'll probably turn me on enough to get me hard again."_ _

_ _"I think this is called felching," he informs Steve happily. "I mean—yes, of course you can put your mouth on me, holy shit."_ _

_ _"I can't acknowledge any of the words you just said except for ‘yes’," mutters Steve, rolling his eyes._ _

_ _Bucky forgives him, though, because he bends his head down, puts his lips on Bucky's ass, pushes his tongue inside and _sucks_. It is the single most dirty sexual act Bucky has ever been a part of and he once gave handjobs to truckers to hitch his way across several states. His cock slaps against his own belly, eagerly responding as Steve sets about tongue-fucking him into oblivion. _ _

_ _Honestly, Bucky sort of checks out a little, floating on the sensation of intense arousal and Steve holding him down and eating him out like his life depends on it. By the time Steve lifts his mouth, every inch of Bucky's skin from balls to tailbone is raw with beard burn, his cock is aching, and Steve's mouth is puffy and red from friction, adding the the obscene visual of his head between Bucky's legs. _ _

_ _"Please, tell me you're ready to fuck me again. Please?" he sobs, tugging on Steve's hair ._ _

_ _"Yeah, honey, I'm ready. You wanna stay on your back?" he murmurs as he sits up, reaching for the lube, using it to slick his hard cock._ _

_ _"Can't move," Bucky says plaintively, giving him another encouraging tug. "Stay." _ _

_ _Steve chuckles indulgently, getting back into position between Bucky's thighs. He hooks both hands under his knees, tugging his legs back around his waist. "Okay, okay, don't worry. You don't have to move, sweetheart."_ _

_ _Steve guides his cock into place, pressing deep so easily, like he belongs there, and Bucky heaves out a relieved sigh, locking his legs around Steve's waist. His thighs are burning like he just spent the last half hour doing squats and not being fucked through the mattress. "God, you feel so good inside me," Bucky says. "Just...stay, right here."_ _

_ _"I'm not going anywhere," Steve murmurs, bracing one big, muscular arm on the bed alongside Bucky. He rolls his hips, sinuous and graceful, and the pleasure rockets straight down Bucky's spine and pools at the base of his now-throbbing cock. _ _

_ _"Better not," mumbles Bucky. "Stay put, right inside me." _ _

_ _Steve does exactly that, beginning to fuck him in earnest. It feels like Bucky careened straight through discomfort after the first orgasm and now he's actually addicted to the raw, hyper-sensitive rush of Steve's strong body getting just what he needs from Bucky._ _

_ _Twenty minutes in and Bucky is delirious with pleasure, clinging to Steve with all his might because if Steve tries to pull out of him he’s going to die. He’s been chanting some version of “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” for at least half the time, sweat stinging his eyes and throat burning. _ _

_ _Steve only hushes him gently, kissing his lips and his damp brow and overheated cheeks. He doesn’t stop or slow down. He fucks Bucky’s soul right out of his body until he’s floating somewhere above, watching, and then he pulls him right back in as his hand wraps around Bucky’s cock and jerks him in time with his thrusts. _ _

_ _Bucky comes with a sob, spasming tightly around Steve, barely registering the way Steve grunts and stills, the wet rush of Steve’s come welling up as he starts thrusting again, chasing the last waves of his orgasm._ _

_ _"Oh my god," Bucky says, voice totally garbled. "Yes, _yes_, give it to me."_ _

_ _Steve does, but all too soon, he's slowing down and pulling out, and Bucky whines petulantly, utterly bereft. "Easy," rumbles Steve, his voice rough and deep. "I'm not going far, but I gotta pull out for a bit, Buck."_ _

_ __Why_, Bucky wants to wail, but he promised he'd be good. He flops, limp, into the pillows, breathing deeply. It hurts a little, when they separate. Steve nuzzles at him in apology, kissing his throat and cheeks. For the moment, they're both soft. _ _

_ _"How many's that?" mumbles Bucky, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck and clinging to him shamelessly. "How many times have you come?"_ _

_ _"You keeping a tally?" Steve asks, amused. "Three for me. Two for you."_ _

_ _"That's the whole point," Bucky says. "Get me a pen, I'm gonna write this down."_ _

_ _Steve laughs, kissing him gently. "You don't have to. I can remember."_ _

_ _"You sure? You won't lose track?" Bucky narrows his eyes at him. _ _

_ _"I can't lose track," says Steve. "I'll remember."_ _

_ _Mollified, Bucky closes his eyes, keeping his arms around Steve as he rests. He’s tingly and sticky and sensitive and everything feels amazing. _ _

_ _Eventually, Steve presses a kiss to his temple and his cheek, and when Bucky opens his eyes, Steve kisses his lips. “What do you think about a shower and then some dinner before we continue this adventure?”_ _

_ _“I find that acceptable,” concedes Bucky. “But you have to carry me.”_ _

_ _“Of course,” agrees Steve, as though it's a foregone conclusion. “One last thing, though.”_ _

_ _“Mm?”_ _

_ _“One of your presents.”_ _

_ _That gets Bucky’s attention. He watches carefully, propped up on his elbows, as Steve pulls a towel-wrapped bundle out of the bedside table. When he opens it to reveal a matte black plug, Bucky sucks in a breath. “Fuck.”_ _

_ _“We don’t have to,” says Steve. “But I thought…”_ _

_ _“I want it,” Bucky says quickly. “Put it in me. Keep me…” His breath hitches. “Keep me ready and open for you.” _ _

_ _Steve’s eyes go dark as he slicks up the plug. It’s not overly large, maybe as thick as three of Steve’s fingers. There’s slight resistance, Steve nudging the tapered end to Bucky’s sore rim, and he exhales, relaxing, letting it in as Steve applies gentle pressure. _ _

_ _“Good boy,” murmurs Steve. “Look at that.”_ _

_ _Bucky groans, the plug sinking inside his body, the base tucked between his cheeks. He squirms a little, clenching down experimentally and enjoying the fullness. _ _

_ _“Ready to get cleaned up?” Steve asks. _ _

_ _Bucky nods. “Yeah.”_ _

_ _He snuggles close as Steve scoops him up and carries him to the bathroom. The shower is a dream, hot and steamy, Steve washing him up and kissing him thoroughly. Bucky is so lucky to be here and have this, like it’s some kind of fairytale. _ _

_ _Sometimes it’s wild to know that for the rest of Bucky’s life, any choices he makes will be because it’s what he wants, not something born of necessity. He doesn’t have to _just survive_ anymore. He’s loved and taken care of and that’s more precious than he can ever properly express. _ _

_ _Steve bundles him into a big fluffy robe and sits him in the living room to wait as Steve prepares dinner._ _

_ _Lady immediately leaps up onto the couch to join him, and Bucky stretches out and pats his chest, encouraging her to lie down on top of him. When she's settled, he wraps his arms around her loosely and strokes his hands up and down her back. _ _

_ _In the kitchen, Steve walks back and forth between the stove and the fridge, pulling out the defrosted soup and putting it into a pot to heat up. Through half-lidded eyes, Bucky watches him cut slices of the big, crusty loaf of bread they got at the market, spreading butter on it and putting it into the oven to toast a little. _ _

_ _There's something incredibly decadent and indulgent and selfish about letting Steve dote on him and care for him like this. Part of Bucky wants to feel guilty for enjoying it so much, but he knows just how much Steve likes to do it, for Bucky, and for himself. _ _

_ _When Bucky sees Steve getting out the bowls and retrieving the bread, he calls, "Can you put the pie in to warm up?"_ _

_ _"Which one?"_ _

_ _"Dunno. Whichever one you think looks good. Peach or berry, up to you."_ _

_ _"Both?"_ _

_ _Bucky snorts. "Or both."_ _

_ _Steve whistles softly to himself as he puts the pies into the oven, and Lady's ears swivel to the kitchen, although she recognizes it's not for her and stays put._ _

_ _A moment later, Steve reappears in the living room carrying a tray laden with two steaming bowls of soup and golden brown buttered toast. _ _

_ _"Oh no," murmurs Bucky. "I seem to have melted all over the couch. Wherever will you sit?"_ _

_ _Steve raises an eyebrow, standing over Bucky. "You can't eat this lying down while wearing Lady like a blanket."_ _

_ _"But I can't move her," Bucky says solemnly. "She's so comfortable. Look at her."_ _

_ _Steve sighs, looking the situation over before he gives a short, sharp whistle, which Lady recognizes immediately, clamoring off of Bucky and down to the floor to sit at Steve's feet. "Nooooo," wails Bucky. "You were supposed to use your super brain to figure out how to let me lay here and eat at the same time."_ _

_ _"Uh huh," mutters Steve, giving Bucky an expectant look. "Why don't you sit up and then I can give you your soup and give Lady a treat for being a good girl."_ _

_ _Bucky sighs. "Okayyyyy."_ _

_ _He takes the tray from Steve who gets Lady a treat from the kitchen before he returns and sits next to Bucky, taking the tray back. Bucky picks up his bowl and leans his head against Steve's shoulder. "Thank you for making dinner."_ _

_ _"You're welcome, honey." Steve kisses the top of Bucky's head before he tucks into his own bowl. _ _

_ _Bucky's hungrier than he realized, digging in as soon as takes his first bite, stomach growling. Steve picks up the remote and puts on the next episode of the series they were watching on Netflix (honestly, thank god for Tony's internet setup), and they devour their dinner in relative silence. Steve gets up for second helpings of the soup for both of them and thirds for himself, and Bucky eats several pieces of bread too. It's delicious. _ _

_ _He's floating happily on a full belly, clean and happy and content to let Steve direct the evening—as long as he directs it toward his dick._ _

_ _The kitchen and living room have filled up with the smell of pie, at this point. Steve eagerly takes all their dishes back to the kitchen while Bucky drowses gently, slumped on the couch, and Steve dumps everything in the sink._ _

_ _"One, or both?" he calls. _ _

_ _"Just peach, for me," says Bucky. "And don't forget the ice cream! It should be frozen. One scoop."_ _

_ _"You got it," says Steve. _ _

_ _Bucky actually dozes off, jerking upright when Steve's weight shifts the couch. "We should take a nap, after this," he says, handing Bucky a bowl with a slice of peach pie and a big scoop of Bucky's homemade vanilla ice cream. "You look dead on your feet."_ _

_ _"I'm not on my feet," retorts Bucky, accepting the bowl and digging in. His crust is amazing, flaky and buttery and crisp. He's really improved. There's nothing better than hot pie and cold ice cream. _ _

_ _Steve snorts. His own bowl is a lot larger, with two pieces of pie all jumbled together under two big melting scoops of ice cream. "You know what I mean. You need a rest."_ _

_ _"I really don't," says Bucky. "I'm fed and hydrated. What I need is your dick, and your dick clearly needs me."_ _

_ _Steve's cheeks flush that pretty pink that Bucky is really growing fond of. "Well, I need you functional, does that count for anything?"_ _

_ _"Your dick isn't gonna be my doom." Bucky scoops up a mouthful and says around it, "Didn't we already cover this?"_ _

_ _Steve's quiet while he eats several bites himself, licking his spoon clean. "You look like you're going to fall asleep as soon as you're in the bed."_ _

_ _"So?"_ _

_ _"So?!" Steve sputters. "So, I can't have sex with you if you're passed out!"_ _

_ _"Sure you can, if I give you permission." Bucky flashes Steve a big smile. "This is me giving you permission."_ _

_ _"Bucky!" Steve sounds shocked, which is very funny, because not much tends to shock him and if this is what does, then Bucky is delighted. _ _

_ _"What?" He bats his eyes innocently. "Trust me, I already dream about your dick, this'll just add to the experience."_ _

_ _Steve's very red now. This is _hilarious_. He frowns, concentrating on his bowl, and when he does speak, it's to change the subject. "This is really good, Buck," he says deliberately. "Just delicious."_ _

_ _"You know what else is delicious?" Bucky says smartly. _ _

_ _"Bucky—"_ _

_ _"My ass, which you ate and then plugged up for later. So I'm ready for you to fuck me again when we finish here," he finishes matter-of-factly. "Trust me, I'm mostly joking about continuing to fuck me if I pass out—_mostly_—but I will wake up for your dick, Steve. I'm committed."_ _

_ _"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Steve exhales noisily. He shakes his head, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're something, Buck."_ _

_ _"Trust me, remember?" Bucky says lightly. "If I wanna stop, I'll say stop. If _you_ wanna stop, I expect the same thing. If this is a roundabout way for you to do that—"_ _

_ _"No," says Steve. "No, it isn't. I just get worried, looking at you all wiped out like this."_ _

_ _"Are you kidding me? I feel great," says Bucky._ _

_ _Steve clears his throat. "Really?"_ _

_ _"Yes, really!" Bucky takes the last bite of dessert and sets the bowl down on the coffee table before he continues. "Steve, do you know how hot it is to watch you come apart? To know you want me that much? It's beautiful! I am thoroughly enjoying this, if it hasn't been clear. This is not some great sacrifice."_ _

_ _Steve looks like he's chewing on his thoughts and the pie, frowning down at the bowl until he swallows. "Okay, I'm...going to trust you. I mean, I already do, Buck, but I'm gonna take you at your word on this and stop questioning it. You're gonna tell me if you want me to stop and that's all there is to it. I shouldn’t be trying to decide how you feel."_ _

_ _Bucky grins, giddy at Steve's acceptance, finally getting fully aboard the fucktrain. "Exactly! Now please, finish your pie."_ _

_ _"You need to learn some patience, you know that?" At the heated look Steve gives him, Bucky can't help but clench down around the plug, shivering at the way it feels._ _

_ _"I'm plenty patient," says Bucky. He slips his hand under his robe to fondle at his dick and see what's up. It's just a little oversensitive, but the more he teases at it, the better it feels. He watches Steve, his damp hair falling in long locks over his forehead, only to be brushed back by big, capable hands. He glances down at his bowl before each bite, lashes fanned out over his cheeks, and his lips wrap around the spoon— _ _

_ _Bucky bites his own lip, drinking Steve in, the bumpy line of his nose, his thick, neatly-trimmed beard. God, he's beautiful. The most beautiful person Bucky has ever seen._ _

_ _"I really love you," he blurts. He's got his hand around his dick, and Steve is mid-chew, so it's not the best delivery, but he means it. He feels it, all over, warm and safe and deeply happy. _ _

_ _Steve glances up, eyes startled, and swallows so hard he coughs a little. "I love you, too, Buck," he says, when he's caught his breath._ _

_ _"I know," says Bucky with a grin. _ _

_ _Steve rolls his eyes, laughing despite himself. "I know that reference."_ _

_ _"You know a lot of references. Don't act like it's special." Bucky gives himself a squeeze, shivering all over. "Are you done yet?"_ _

_ _Steve glances down at his bowl and back to Bucky, tracking his movements. "Don't want to rush. I might get brain freeze."_ _

_ _"Ugh. You're such a cock tease, y'know? You always have been, even last winter, running around shirtless to chop wood while I suffered!" Bucky slides his hand down past his balls and touches where the plug is buried inside of him, exploring the tender skin and full feeling. _ _

_ _"I hate to break it to you, Buck, but out of the two of us, you're the only one teasing your cock right now." Steve's spoon clatters against the bottom of the bowl as he scrapes up the last dregs of his dessert. "But I just hope you remember what I said earlier, honey. I don't want you to come unless it's on my cock."_ _

_ _"Does it look like I'm about to come?" demands Bucky. "I'm just trying to entertain myself while you take ten years to eat your dessert when I'm sitting right here, ready for you to fuck me into outer space."_ _

_ _Steve's mouth twitches, like he's trying to clamp down on a smile. "Who said I was finished with dessert?" he asks. He puts aside his bowl, gets to his feet, and then scoops Bucky up, flipping him over his shoulder. _ _

_ _Bucky squawks in surprise and delight. For a second, he thinks Steve might spank him, which makes something molten hot flare in the base of his belly, but instead, Steve's big hand settles over his ass. Just resting there comfortably, heavy and warm. "Steve!" laughs Bucky, kicking his legs a little just to make Steve have to catch his ankles with his other hand._ _

_ _"Yes?" Steve asks calmly, carrying him into the bedroom. _ _

_ _"Am I dessert?"_ _

_ _"I'm going to eat you up, so, yes."_ _

_ _A shiver tingles pleasantly down Bucky's spine. "But you said you didn't want me to come unless you were inside me. You can't suck my dick and fuck me at the same time."_ _

_ _"We're going to try the other present I bought you, so I can suck your cock as much as I like without there being much danger of you coming too soon," Steve says. _ _

_ _Bucky brain whites out a little. He goes limp and easy as Steve puts him down on the bed, propped up on his elbows and watching him dazedly as he takes something small out of the bedside table, a little collection of black loops. Fuck. When did he stash that stuff?_ _

_ _"Open that robe up for me?" Steve asks. "Let me see your cock, sweetheart."_ _

_ _Bucky pushes himself up so he can open his robe, letting his legs fall open as he gives Steve a saucy smile, sinking back on his elbows again. “All yours.”_ _

_ _Steve’s gaze darkens and he makes a low, appreciative sound. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”_ _

_ _“Uh huh.” Bucky nods readily, his heart thudding in his chest as Steve slides one hand up Bucky’s left leg, gliding over his calf and knee, across his thigh as he urges Bucky to spread wider still. _ _

_ _“Buck,” sighs Steve, taking hold of Bucky’s cock. “You’re so damn good.”_ _

_ _Bucky whimpers, letting his head fall back at the heat of Steve’s hand. “Its all for you, Steve. Just want—want you to be happy.”_ _

_ _“Oh, baby,” rumbles Steve, slicking Bucky’s cock to work the tight cockring into place, around his balls and the base of his dick. “You make me so happy.”_ _

_ _Bucky squirms a little, belly tight, arousal burning low in his gut. There's something extremely wanton and debauched about lying on his back, robe open, while Steve adjusts a cockring on him and Bucky jerks his hips helplessly into the pressure of his hand while rocking back down onto the plug. Sweat prickles at his hairline, heat sweeping through him, and he clenches his hands in the bedclothes to steady himself. _ _

_ _"S-Steve," he gasps. "God, your hands feel so good."_ _

_ _Steve gives him a teasing little squeeze. "Yeah?"_ _

_ _"Yes! But your mouth would feel even better."_ _

_ _"I _am_ still hungry," Steve says, voice low. It should be corny, but Bucky is distracted by how thoroughly unprepared he is for how it feels when Steve sinks down between his legs and takes his bound cock into his mouth. _ _

_ _Sheer, unadulterated pleasure, the hot-wet-_tight_ suction of Steve's mouth, coupled with an edge of desperation when he becomes aware of the denial taking place, the silicone wrapped snug around his balls and the base of his cock. "Oh my god," he squeaks, humping indelicately into Steve's mouth. _ _

_ _Luckily, Steve presses down on his hips, holding Bucky to the bed._ _

_ _It’s shockingly good, Bucky letting out a noise he’s sure he’s never made before in his life, high and needy. His cock feels too tender to be touched but all he wants is _more_, as if just a little more might let him come despite the tight pinch that’s holding him back. “Oh,” he whines. “Oh please, oh my god, Steve!”_ _

_ _Steve lifts up from his cock with a filthy slurp. “Yeah, sweetheart? Something the matter?”_ _

_ _His voice is honey-sweet and rich, settling over Bucky like some kind of spell. “I just—” Bucky breaks off, swallowing. “I need it.”_ _

_ _“Need what?”_ _

_ _“Your cock, I need it. Need you to fuck me, please!”_ _

_ _Steve hums, lowering his mouth to kiss the head of Bucky’s cock, giving it a slow, wet lick. “But you taste so good, baby. Doesn’t it feel good, too?”_ _

_ _Bucky whimpers helplessly. “It does! It does, but I need to come!”_ _

_ _“And you need my cock for that, huh?”_ _

_ _"You said!" Bucky cries petulantly. One hand finds its way into Steve's hair, tugging insistently. "You said, Steve, I wanna be good and not come until you fuck me, so _fuck me_."_ _

_ _Steve _hmmms_ gently, lips against the head of Bucky's cock. Bucky shudders. "I will. I'll give you what you need, Buck. Soon."_ _

_ _His mouth wraps around Bucky's flushed erection, taking his sweet time and doubling down, treating Bucky's dick like its a melting popsicle, slurping and sucking and laving his tongue along the length of the shaft. It's driving Bucky out of his mind, this building pressure and pleasure, a flood of hot arousal with no release. Bucky sobs, and he thinks he might be pulling too hard on Steve's hair, but Steve just looks steadily up at him. _ _

_ _Bucky doesn't exactly regret this entire fuckfest but he perhaps didn't anticipate just how Steve would take to it. Getting slowly and deliberately fucked by a man with superhuman stamina is a very special kind of exquisite torture. _ _

_ _Finally, Steve pulls off with a wet pop and kisses the head of Bucky's cock again. "There we go. Cleaned you up a bit, honey."_ _

_ _Breath hitching, Bucky blinks at Steve in a daze, licking his lips. "Thanks," he rasps, feeling like he might float off the face of the earth at any moment. _ _

_ _Steve chuckles, a warm sound that keeps Bucky centered, keeps him grounded. Steve's lips brush Bucky's hip and then his trembling stomach and over his heart and the bottom of his chin. Finally, he presses a kiss to Bucky's lips. "Hey, honey."_ _

_ _"Hey's for horses," croaks Bucky, pushing his fingers through Steve's thick, golden hair. "You gonna fuck me or not?"_ _

_ _"I am," says Steve. "But I have a question for you. You know how...we like to talk about how sensitive your prostate is?"_ _

_ _Something between dread and delight twists in Bucky's chest. "Yeah?"_ _

_ _"Since I can go so long, I thought it might be nice to also see how much it takes for you to have an orgasm without coming." Steve hums after he says it, like it's just something to consider, like he's not blowing Bucky's mind right now, just for suggesting it._ _

_ _"Oh my god," he breathes out, hitching one leg over Steve's hip so he can roll his body up against Steve's, his cock throbbing with need. "Oh my god, I've corrupted you. You're evil now."_ _

_ _"Oh, Buck," Steve says coyly, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead. "That's real cute, that you think that. I've been fucking little twinks like you since 1938. I've always been bent."_ _

_ _Bucky makes a shocked sound. "I get to take credit for post-ice cube shenanigans, though, right?" he slurs. "I don't doubt you were a spitfire even before they superpowered your dick."_ _

_ _Steve chuckles indulgently. He gently reaches between Bucky's legs to tweak the base of the plug, while his other hand cradles his hip. Bucky grunts, clenching around it. He's pretty into how it feels. A full, comfortable pressure, snug inside him, like a dirty little secret just for the two of them. "This is just obscene, isn't it?" Steve murmurs, the blunt end of his thumb pressing against the base of the plug. "This kinky toy, tucked inside your sweet little hole."_ _

_ _Bucky's breath hitches. "Fuck," he gasps. "Please, please, Steve, just fuck me? Please!"_ _

_ _"You want this out?" Steve asks. He grips the base, giving it a light tug. It pulls against Bucky's rim and he moans, rolling his hips into the motion. "Want me in?"_ _

_ _"Yes!" wails Bucky. _ _

_ _"Relax for me," Steve murmurs. "Bear down, hmm? I don't want this to hurt you."_ _

_ _Bucky exhales shakily, doing as Steve asks, and the plug slips out fairly easy. He misses the fullness instantly. "Oh, please," he begs. "Please, I'm ready now, please fuck me!"_ _

_ _"Alright, Buck, I've got you," soothes Steve. He slicks up, guiding his cock into place, and holds onto Bucky's hip as he slides in, deep and sure. _ _

_ _Bucky sobs with relief. The warm fullness and the thick stretch is everything, perfect and fitting just right. He wraps his legs around Steve's narrow hips, hooking his ankles together like he can lock Steve in place. He tugs at Steve's hair again, pulling him down for hungry kisses, which Steve provides with a rumbling sound that Bucky might normally associate with a very pleased cat. _ _

_ _Steve slides his hands up Bucky's sides, tucking one under his shoulder to hold him in place as he moves his hips and oh, oh, _oh_ that's so good, the way his big, fat cock rubs against Bucky's swollen rim, his overworked insides, that oversensitive spot that steals Bucky's breath. His whole body feels like it's being taken apart and rearranged into something better, his cock throbbing insistently but somehow secondary to the pleasure building inside of him. _ _

_ _Bucky breaks the kiss to arch up into Steve's thrusts, head tipped back. "Oh, holy fuck," he groans. "How are you _doing_ that?"_ _

_ _"Doing what?" rumbles Steve teasingly. "Fucking you just right?"_ _

_ _"You know exactly what I mean!" cries Bucky, gasping at a perfectly aligned thrust. The sharp, concentrated pleasure building inside him is indescribable. Even though his cock is hard and leaking, the pleasure crests to what feels like a plateau. He's choked by tears, desperate for satisfaction, but Steve is pinning him down so securely, using his strength to tenderly fuck Bucky into oblivion. Steve is so thick inside him, hot and hard, splitting him open. Bucky's not going to be able to sit down comfortably tomorrow, but this is worth it._ _

_ _"I do," says Steve, kissing him so gently that Bucky's tears spill over. "Oh, hey. Hey now, baby." He brushes at Bucky's wet cheeks. "You good?"_ _

_ _"I am perfect," Bucky groans. "I am in orgasm purgatory."_ _

_ _"Big words for someone I'm trying so hard to fuck stupid," says Steve. "Should I put my back into it?"_ _

_ _"This _isn't_ you putting your back into it?" Bucky moans helplessly. _ _

_ _"I've got you," Steve says. "Come on, Buck. You can do it. You can come, can't you?"_ _

_ _"I don't know," says Bucky, sobbing. "I want to come, Steve, I want to come _so bad_." His body is throbbing, he is _so close_, he is on the edge but he can't fall off. Everything about him is tender and raw, his prostate hot and swollen as Steve's cock drags over it again and again._ _

_ _"You wouldn't mind if I took a little pleasure first, would you?" mutters Steve, a smile hiding in the curve of his pink mouth. "Since you're taking your sweet time?"_ _

_ _"O-_oh_." Bucky lets his nails drag down Steve's sweat-slick back, relishing the way Steve's hips stutter as he moans. Pure, greedy filth spills out of Bucky's lips, "Yeah, fill me up, I need it, wanna be messy, want you to fuck your come into me and then—" he breaks off to breathe, shivering from head to foot, overwhelmed; every time he thinks he can't go any higher, he does. _ _

_ _"And then what, Buck?" asks Steve, voice rough with his own need. _ _

_ _Bucky shivers again. "Keep going."_ _

_ _Steve groans, catching Bucky's mouth in a heated kiss as his hips shove deep and he comes with a pulse of warmth deep inside him. Bucky tightens around Steve like he's trying to keep every drop where it belongs. Steve jerks, pulling his hips back, and then he pushes in again, driving a whimper out of Bucky._ _

_ _It starts slow, just a gentle rock, and then it's more, and _more_, until Steve is full on fucking him again, the wet squelch of every thrust a filthy reminder of what Steve just did, what he's going to do again and again until he's satisfied, until he's used Bucky's body exactly as much as he needs. And with that thought and the perfect angle of Steve's renewed strokes, Bucky feels like it all just snaps into place, his orgasm cresting with a force so strong he forgets how to breathe for several seconds, mouth open wide and soundless as he tenses so hard it _hurts_._ _

_ _It's the kind of intense pleasure that comes hand in hand with a wave of nerve-bright discomfort, Bucky desperate to lean into it while simultaneously trying to escape. This orgasm is like nothing he's ever experienced; it feels like it goes on forever, crashing into his body like a wave against the shore. It breaks over him, drowning him in sensation. _ _

_ _Throughout, Steve keeps fucking him, because even though he just came inside Bucky, he's still hard. He's _still hard_ while Bucky jerks and twitches through the overwhelming rush of his own orgasm. _ _

_ _"Steve," he sobs. "Steve, please, oh, god! Keep going, don't stop, _don't stop_, please."_ _

_ _Steve does stop, though. He pulls entirely out of Bucky, which is officially the worst thing ever. Bucky whines, tears spilling over his cheeks, but Steve hushes him, kissing his forehead. He removes the cockring and then carefully flips Bucky over onto his belly, pushing one knee up as he pins him back down. _ _

_ _"_Yes_," slurs Bucky. "Yes, that's good, thank you, thank you, _please_ don't stop!"_ _

_ _Steve's reassuring weight settles back over Bucky, the head of his cock nudging at his sore, puffy rim. He sinks back into Bucky easily, driving a thick moan out of him. _ _

_ _"I've got you," Steve murmurs, voice a deep rumble right by Bucky's ear. He shivers, eyes flickering closed, face pressed to the pillow. "I've got you, baby, come on, lets get another one out of you, huh? Can you do that for me?"_ _

_ _For a second, Bucky has no idea what Steve means, what he wants. Another what?_ _

_ _Then he realizes that Steve wants another _orgasm_, and Bucky sobs helplessly, stunned. "Can't," he mumbles. "Just take what you want, g'on, fuck me, come inside me."_ _

_ _"I will," Steve assures him, soft lips pressed to Bucky's skin, just below his ear. "I'm gonna give you everything you're asking for, Buck."_ _

_ _Bucky nods, cheek rubbing against soft cotton. "Yeah, s'good." He lets his eyes drift shut, just floating on the feeling of Steve surrounding him, over him, inside of him. "You feel good."_ _

_ _"I'm glad," murmurs Steve, hips rolling relentlessly. "So glad you asked for this. You're so beautiful."_ _

_ _Bucky sighs, flexing around the deep, slick slide of Steve's cock, just to feel the drag of it, the way it presses against every tender part of him. Steve keeps going._ _

_ _It feels like Steve's mouth travels across every bit of skin he can reach, pressing kisses, murmuring praise. One of his hands stays curled around Bucky's leg, helping him keep it folded under him, and the other slides up into his hair, tipping Bucky's head back to bare his throat for Steve's wandering mouth. _ _

_ _Bucky's not exactly sure how long they go in this position, but he thinks at some point, Steve comes at least one more time, maybe twice. He registers the telltale uptick in his breathing, the quiet grunt, and the way his hips still for a moment before he continues on. Bucky moans, reaching back to clutch at Steve's hip, to keep him close. "M're," he mumbles. "K'p goin'."_ _

_ _Steve tips them both over, his arms locked around Bucky, keeping him in position for the roll of his hips. Bucky can feel come dripping out of him, leaking around Steve's cock, dribbling over his ass and balls. Bucky moans, realizing with a start that he's hard again...or rather, he’s _still_ hard. To be honest, he can't remember if he ever really went soft. And then Steve's hand wraps around his cock and Bucky can't think of anything else._ _

_ _He does, eventually, come again. _ _

_ _Just like Steve asked, Bucky only comes on his cock, a hard-earned, blinding orgasm that jolts through him with a shock. _ _

_ _He thinks that maybe he cries through it, babbling about how _good_ he feels, how much he loves Steve, how wrecked he is, because he's very aware of Steve's lips all over him, soft kisses and touches and ample praise, Bucky getting stroked and petted and coddled. When he’s done, Steve lifts him out of bed, bundled limp and half-asleep in his arms. _ _

_ _The bath is nice. The heat of the water seeps into his sore, overtaxed muscles, Bucky nodding off as Steve sits him up against his chest and methodically scrubs him from head to foot. Shampoo, conditioner, rinse. A soft cloth all over his body, between his legs, over his sensitive, spent cock and sore hole...._ _

_ _Bucky drifts, sagging heavily into the comforting, solid weight of Steve's embrace. _ _

_ _He blinks awake when he's bundled, dry and clean, into the armchair by the bed while Steve cleans up. Bucky whines softly and opens his eyes. _ _

_ _"Be there in just a sec, Buck," says Steve softly. "We made a mess."_ _

_ _"Sure did," mumbles Bucky. "Made a mess of me. Did it work?"_ _

_ _"How do you mean?" asks Steve, smoothing out fresh sheets on the bed and shaking out the quilt. When the bed is made, he scoops Bucky back up into his arms without being prompted and tucks him into bed. _ _

_ _"Did I wear you out?" asks Bucky, yawning widely as Steve pulls the blanket overtop of him. He frowns as Steve moves away again, reaching out for him._ _

_ _"Just a second, honey. I’m going to check on Lady and turn the lights out."_ _

_ _Bucky draws his hand back under the blanket with a _hmph_, pouting as Steve leaves. He doesn't take long, returning to turn off the lamp and climb into bed next to Bucky. Bucky rolls toward him, tucking himself under Steve's chin and letting Steve wrap him up in his arms. _ _

_ _After a moment, he pokes Steve's ribs. "You didn't answer."_ _

_ _Steve lets out a small huff, but it sounds mostly amused. "Yeah, Buck, it worked real good. I..." he trails off, lips pressing softly to the crown of Bucky's head, hair still damp and riotous with tangles he'll have to battle tomorrow. For now, though, Bucky only cares about what Steve might say, what he's thinking. _ _

_ _He tips his head back and kisses Steve's jaw, his chin, and when Steve bends his head down, Bucky catches his lips. _ _

_ _Steve shivers, eyelashes fluttering, barely visible in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. "You're all I'll ever need, you know that?"_ _

_ _"Mmm." Bucky hums. "I know."_ _

_ _Steve chuckles, the warmth of his laughter rumbling through Bucky's body. His lips shower kisses over Bucky's face. _ _

_ _"Did you get what you wanted, though?" Bucky asks. He has to stifle a yawn. God, he is tired. "I'm wiped, but you still look suspiciously perky."_ _

_ _"Believe me, Buck, I'm spent," murmurs Steve. "I'd need a nap, a couple hours, and a full meal before I could go again."_ _

_ _"Really?" Bucky wriggles happily, squeezing at Steve's body. "How many did it take?"_ _

_ _"Nine."_ _

_ _"Holy fuck," says Bucky. "Can't even remember how many orgasms you wrung outta me, let alone how many times you got off. Nine?"_ _

_ _"That's the final tally you wanted me to keep track of. You came twice, then we had our break, and then you came twice again. You even came dry."_ _

_ _"That's a record."_ _

_ _"For you and me both, kid."_ _

_ _Bucky yawns, giving into the bone-shattering exhaustion, his jaw cracking. "We did scientific research. Now we have a number to beat, and you know that I won't snap like a twig the next time we try."_ _

_ _"Jeeze, Buck." Steve laughs, and it's light and fond. "You're really something."_ _

_ _"Just wanted to give you what you want."_ _

_ _"Already did without either of us knowin' it, that day you climbed into the back of the truck. Got all I ever wanted and never knew to ask for. You're good at that, y'know." He kisses Bucky's nose and then his mouth, and Bucky can feel the curve of a smile against his own lips. "Now go to sleep. I was promised more flavors of ice cream."_ _

_ _"Yeah, think I can manage that," agrees Bucky. He snuggles closer and allows himself to drift to sleep as Steve gently combs his fingers through his hair, fixing the tangles and humming softly._ _


End file.
